A Love Story
by angeldylan628
Summary: Peyton Sawyer hated cliches, but damn it if it wasn't true. They don't write love stories about the ones that come easy. This is the tale of Lucas and Peyton; the epic journey life takes them on before they find their way back to each other.
1. Chapter 1: Home

A/N: I realize that I have two fics out there that are unfinished, but this fic was too good to pass up. To ensure that I update at reasonable intervals, I've outlined the entire fic and waited until I'd written six chapters before I posted this first one.

This story came to me when someone sent me a spoiler picture that killed my little LP spirit. I have faith, always will, in Leyton. This is how I feel the season should have played out. It's AU in the sense that it will stray from the path that Mr. Schwann has set out. Enough of the plot did come from him though where I can say it's not entirely AU.

For the record, I don't read spoilers. The pic was sent to me on accident. So when leaving reviews try to keep the spoilers out of them or I'll get distracted and that is never a good thing lol.

And I think that's enough chattering from me. This will be an eight year journey with plenty of twists and turns just like real life. So please stay around for the ride. The next chapter will be up on **_Sunday. _And that's a promise :)** Plenty of thanks to Ellie, my beta, who is the best beta a girl can have. And thanks to all of you for putting up with my spazzy muse.

Fuck, that was like an Oscar speech there lol. Okay enough out of me! Go enjoy the fic! And leave me a review if you're feeling charitable.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH. I don't own Hilarie. And I only wish I owned Chad -sigh-

Chapter One: _Home_

Home is where the heart is. A cliché statement, but ultimately a true one. There is, without a doubt, a pull that exists within humans, like a magnet, that drags them towards a destination where they feel they will be most content. There isn't much in denying that we are at our happiest when we are surrounded by loved ones. We are social beings, drawn to one another.

In fact, there's an old Greek myth about creation, which states that at the beginning of time our souls were cleaved into two halves, Man-Man, Woman-Woman and Man-Woman. The halves were scattered about the earth and only one half was placed within us, thus making us incomplete and in constant yearning for it's missing half. It is only fair then, that our metaphorical hearts are always in search of another half to make us a whole soul. Without it, we are doomed to spend our time as a wandering nomad, always restless.

Always searching.

* * *

Peyton Sawyer dropped her bags unceremoniously in the middle of her hotel room. It was dingy and it smelt like clothing that had been left in the washing machine for too long. It was musky and nauseating, but Peyton barely noticed the smell. She was just happy to be back. 

Los Angeles had been a cruel wake up call for the small town girl, and after four years of soul searching, she had realized that her home was here in Tree Hill. There was pain, so much pain left in Tree Hill. Two dead mothers. A stalker. Broken friendships and broken trust. But above all there was Lucas who had managed to cause her as much pain as he did love.

It scared her more than anything. With Lucas, anything could happen. It was the type of relationship that was constantly up in the air. It floated in slow motion, weightless, suspended above them, waiting for a crack of lightening in the form of a look or a few words and then it all fell apart. Either they were lost in a blizzard of kisses or turning their backs on each other. They were magnets with ever changing polarity.

She must have known he was going to be there. Subconsciously, she hoped he was. She was too chicken to go knocking at his door at one in the morning, but she knew the one place he'd be this late at night if he wasn't at home was at Rivercourt.

She forgot how much she loved this place. Staring down at the fading signatures, she remembered a promise that she'd be seeing him and guarded words between two people from two different worlds, and most recently, quiet nights spent cuddled on the edge of the court.

When she saw him there, at the same corner of the court, her breath caught in her throat. He looked just as wonderful as ever and his bright blue eyes still sent shivers down her spine when they locked with hers. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, kiss him until she couldn't breath. She had once wanted everything she left in Tree Hill to fade as the signatures on the pavement had. But someone had told her true love never faded, and when she saw him she knew, deep down in her soul, that it was true. Her love for Lucas hadn't faded.

"I'm with someone now." He broke her heart with those four words. Her eyes were paralyzed in fear and heartbreak.

And instead of waiting around for him to explain, she nodded and ran. Even when she heard him calling her name, she kept moving. She wasn't going to let herself get attached. This wasn't high school and she refused to be the other woman, the one Lucas pined for while he was promised to someone else. No, she was a different woman now even if Lucas was still the same old Lucas, too impatient to wait for her, too quick to claim to be in love.

As she ran towards her car, she realized maybe she hadn't changed as much as she thought. After all, she was still running from him, wasn't she? Or maybe it was just that Tree Hill brought out the worst in her.

Whatever it was she should have never come home.


	2. Chapter 2: Lines

A/N: The feedback from the first chapter was awesome! So glad you guys are pumped for this story. As promised, here's chapter two beta'ed by the fabulous Ellie. I promise the chapters will be longer than the first one was, but they won't be as long as my chapters for Life Happens or The Art of Selflessness either. Anyways! Enjoy and leave a review if you feel up to it :)

Next chapter will be out Friday at the latest.

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Chapter Two: Lines

As a society, we are very comfortable with the idea of lines. We welcome them, in fact. Lines separate the good from bad. Right from wrong. Something less from something more. Lines are often crossed, but incapable of being straddled.

They are arbitrary and often are moved by consensus as society shifts towards one end. Sometimes, lines can make giant leaps towards one way and leave us wondering why bother with keeping the line? But it's simple. We need boundaries.

Otherwise, there'd be nothing stopping us from getting what we wanted.

And that's more dangerous than any line could be.

She hadn't slept in days, a fact that Brooke kept reminding her of every time she caught her in the kitchen up before dawn. Peyton would just shrug and pour herself another cup of coffee, something stronger than that cheap espresso that Brooke guzzled. Occasionally, she would sneak a shot of Jack or Baileys when Brooke wasn't looking, anything to get her through the day.

She tried to remember if she had had this much trouble sleeping when she lived in Los Angeles, but she soon realized that her days on the West Coast were nothing but a giant blur.

She shook her head. She knew the reason she wasn't sleeping was because of Lucas. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize she came back for him. Everyone in Tree Hill, Lucas included, knew that. And now, he was with Lindsey.

Peyton felt like a fool. A fool who was slowly but surely realizing that she had lost the love of her life without so much as a postcard telling her why. She never expected that he'd welcome her with open arms, but she never believed he'd be in love with someone else.

If it weren't for the record company, Peyton would have taken the first flight back to Los Angeles and gone back to pretending that Lucas would come back to her. It would have been much easier to live in her fantasy world than to have its giant trump card being stamped out in front of her.

It was these thoughts she was musing on when the doorbell rang. Brooke shot her a cheery smile and dashed off to the door. Peyton wanted to roll her eyes, but she found she couldn't. Brooke had and still was giving her everything, and the last thing Peyton would ever be was ungrateful. Brooke's good mood might have rubbed her the wrong way sometimes, but it would always be more of a blessing than anything.

"Hey."

The unwelcome voice from behind her made her clutch her mug closer to her chest. She didn't respond, and her new guest took it as an opportunity to walk around the counter so he was facing her.

"Brooke let me in."

"I see that," Peyton said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

Try as she might, Peyton would never escape the defense mechanism that was her sarcasm. Luckily by now, Lucas was used to it.

"See you haven't changed much," he smiled.

"Neither have you," Peyton chuckled, almost bitterly. Lucas either didn't pick up on the bitterness or chose to ignore it.

"How's the business going?"

"You came here to ask me that?" Peyton asked, raising her eyebrows. Lucas scratched the back of his head.

"Yeah, I did," he said, his eyes darting around the room, refusing to settle on hers. She rolled her eyes, picking up on the telltale sign that he was hiding something. She wasn't going to play this game with Lucas.

"Well it's doing fine, thank you. You can go now that you checked up on me." She pointed to the door, before standing up and placing her mug in the sink.

"Why are you so hostile?" Lucas finally blurted out. Peyton turned sharply on her heel, her arms bracing herself up against the sink.

"Lucas, I'm going to give you some advice. Don't ask questions that you don't want to know the answers to."

"I want to know," Lucas said slowly, in an almost patronizing matter, "Otherwise I wouldn't have asked you."

"Fine! Than don't ask questions that you _**already**_ know the answers to."

That effective shut him up.

"But you need it spelled out for you, don't you, Lucas? You always have," Peyton sighed, "Well, okay then…I've been back for three weeks, Lucas, and you and I both know that I don't want to see you, okay? It's weird and incredibly awkward. I spend most of time when we're in the same room thinking about how I can get out of the room and the rest of the time thinking about why I came back here in the first place. But I'm here now, and I need to make the best of it and that's what I'm trying to do, Luke. That's why I need you to stop checking up on me. I need you to stop looking at me like you do and I need you to stop caring because if you don't stop doing that, I'm going to blow a gasket and either A) kiss you or B) knock you into next week and going by my lack of sleep, I might just do both."

When she finished her rant, she finally realized she had been staring at him this whole time, and yet she had no idea what his reaction had been. She quickly looked away, glancing towards her bedroom.

"I'm going to my room. Let yourself out, please," she whispered, her voice going from frustrated to timid in a matter of moments. She brushed past him, making sure to bump him hard with her shoulder just to emphasize her point, but all it served to do was remind her of how solid his body was. She closed her eyes, willing herself not to think of that.

"Peyton." She made it all of four steps before he called her name. Unlike the last time he did it at Rivercourt, she looked back this time.

"What?"

"We were friends once. Why can't we just work on being friends again?"

Peyton nearly flinched, but she was strong enough to hide her disappointment; strong enough to not say 'because after that fucking speech I just gave you, you should realize I'm still head over heels in love with you.'

"We were never friends Lucas," Peyton whispered, "We always crossed that line. We couldn't help it."

"It's different this time."

"Exactly," she nodded, "It's not high school anymore. If we crossed that line, it would be so much worse. I can't let that happen."

"I wouldn't let it happen. I've changed since then. I won't make the same mistakes that I did last time. I won't screw up our relationship."

From a distance, they were all the right words, and yet they left a bitter taste in Peyton's mouth.

"As much as I love hearing you call me a mistake time and time again, I was thinking more that I can't trust myself not to cross that line-"

"You know I didn't mean it like that," Lucas sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I'm honestly not sure about that anymore," Peyton said, giving him a weak smile, "And you know what come to think of it, I think what you just said proved to me that I don't need to worry about crossing the line. You definitely wouldn't be worth it."

"Peyton," Lucas whispered, "I don't think you were a mistake."

"Sure," she nodded softly, "I'll see you later, friend."

She tiptoed to her bedroom and as soon as she heard the front door shut, she allowed herself to cry. The tears were enough to soothe her to sleep


	3. Chapter 3: Timing

A/N: Thanks for all the support last chapter! I was able to get this one up on time :) Yay for me! This is unbeta'ed so any glaring grammatical errors belong to me. Feel free to drop me a review. I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter, but it was the best I could do. I tried to make Lindsey a little more likeable and with a little more substance than the show has. I'm not a fan of cardboard cut out generic girlfriends for Lucas (at least Brooke had redeemable qualities). Next chapter will be out Monday or Tuesday at the latest.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH. If I did, Lindsey's character would be deleted from all our memories.

Chapter Three: Timing

Any great director will tell you the essence of cinema is timing. A director needs to feel the build up of its characters on and off screen. The dialogue needs to come off at perfect intervals or it will feel forced and fraudulent. The whole reason that people watch plays and television and movies is to both escape their own reality and invade another.

It's odd then to think that life really doesn't work on any set timing. Beats are often dropped and cues are constantly missed and words are stumbled over and exchanged. Half the time, we're not making any sense.

But then, there in lies the difference. Cinema is life molded; shaped; perfected.

Life is anything but perfect.

* * *

Peyton had decided that the best way to deal with Lucas was to give him what he had asked for. Friendship. Whenever she caught him around town, either by himself or with Lindsey, she took the time to stop and chat. At first, Lucas was confused and she spent most of the time filling the blank spaces with laughs and smiles. It was as if she had no recollection whatsoever of the conversation they had had in her kitchen.

Lindsey for her part didn't notice, and Peyton found that the conversation between herself and Lucas's girlfriend flowed much smoother than she would have liked. She really wanted to hate Lindsey, but she couldn't…and that sucked.

Lindsey had amazing taste in music. In fact, before she switched to editing, she had been a music major in college. She played piano and violin and she had a pretty damn good voice too. Peyton was almost considering bringing her into the studio, but decided against it seeing as it could mean more time around Lucas.

The problem with pretending to be Lucas's friend was that she really didn't know how to do that anymore. Once they had finally gone out, it was like all the tension they had buried under the surface of a normal relationship had seeped out and infected everything between them. Every hug, ever breath of a touch was charged with something almost magnetic. Peyton was sure she was the only one feeling it now.

If there was one thing really going her way though, it was that Lucas was clearly frustrated with how she was handling the whole thing. His confusion was splayed across his pretty little face, and Peyton took pleasure in him trying to figure out just exactly what she was getting at. He hadn't expected her to get along with Lindsey, and he surely didn't expect her to try to be his friend.

Peyton was wrong if she thought that Lucas wasn't feeling the affects of having a friendship with her. It was as if every friendly grasp of an arm or pat on the shoulder made him blush, and her presence always lingered too long after she left. He was starting to understand what she had meant that morning in the kitchen.

They couldn't be friends because their friendship was always running on borrowed time. There was so much desire, pure want and need that burned like a wildfire under the surface wanting to push its way through whenever they saw each other.

Finally, it reached a boiling point when at Brooke's boutique opening.

Peyton was wearing a strapless green dress with a neckline the plunged enough to make Lucas unbutton the top button on his dress shirt unconsciously. Lindsey was in New York, and because she and Peyton were on such good terms that she had heartedly insisted that Peyton accompany Lucas there. Peyton had agreed, and she had spent tonight beside him so close that they should be touching.

But they weren't.

And that was killing him.

"What can I get you, sir?" the bartender asked, his chiseled smile focusing on Peyton instead of Lucas. The man had been eyeing Peyton all night, much to Lucas's chagrin.

"Martini," Lucas gritted out.

Peyton glanced over at him and smirked. She remembered how jealous he used to get whenever men flirted with her back when they were together. It seemed some things never changed.

"How about for your misses?"

"I'm not his misses," Peyton said, before Lucas could say anything. He shot her a glare, but she was too busy locking eyes with the bartender. "I'd like a martini as well." She patted the bartender's hand.

"I'm David, by the way," he said.

Peyton reached up and stroked the hair just behind Lucas's ear, almost as if he was a puppy. "I'm Peyton, and this is my good friend, Lucas." The way she put emphasis on the word friend made Lucas's skin crawl.

"Nice to meet you both," David said, but his eyes were only on Peyton's. He slipped away to get their drinks, and Peyton dropped her hand.

"He was pretty cute," she said. Lucas's face went from angry to furious within the time it took for her to wink at him. But, he was able to control it. If she wanted to play this way, he could play too.

"You're not good enough for him," Lucas smirked.

"Excuse me?" Peyton said her jaw dropping. He saw her hand itching forward, no doubt to slap him across the face, but he caught it in his hand and wrapped his fingers around it.

"Let me tell you a secret," Lucas said, leaning close so he could whisper, "If you were good enough for him, you wouldn't be using him to make your ex-boyfriend jealous."

She turned her face so that their lips were centimeters apart. "I wasn't using him to make you jealous. In fact…_friend_…all I was thinking about was a getting a good fuck out of tonight." She felt his fingers tighten around hers, but she didn't stop. "I was thinking about how cute that pretty smile of his would look when it called out my name and how those hands could probably do wonders on my aching back. And God, I haven't had a good fuck since I saw Jake in Savannah."

The look in Lucas's eyes was so smoldering she wanted to run for the hills. Unfortunately, he was still holding her hand, thought it was more like he was crushing it against the counter. There were already bruises forming.

Without a word, Lucas stood up and tugged her by the hand. She didn't say anything, knowing her mouth had already gotten her in trouble. She had to be honest. The other reason she didn't speak was because her heart was beating fast in her chest. She felt a sick thrill from seeing him so passionate, even if that passion was from anger.

He pulled her into the back of the store, ignoring Haley when she asked where they were going, even when she eyed their intertwined hands. She didn't stop them though. She must have known stopping Lucas and Peyton was like trying to derail a freight train. If you succeeded, you'd only wind up hurting yourself, and sooner or later that train would be right back on track.

There was a storage closet on the right. When the boutique had been Karen's Café, it had been the pantry. Now, it was crammed with designer ensembles. Three rows of tightly packed couture, with shoes piled beneath. There was hardly an inch of space to breathe there, and yet, Lucas found a way to fit them in there. Closing the door, he slid her in front of him, her forehead pressed against the wood and her back to him.

He didn't speak for minutes, and the only sound that could be heard was the ragged breathing between them.

"We've been here before, back when it was a pantry. Do you remember? I had you pressed up against this here door and you were moaning about how I should take you here like we are now."

Peyton remembered it well. The desire and passion had been coursing through her blood just like it was now. She trembled at the thought.

"It was the night before you left for L.A. I made love to you on this floor, and you said it was the best night of your night," he paused, dipping his lips so he could taste the sweaty skin on her neck. "And I knew at that moment, that it would always be you and me. No matter what. I never loved someone as much as I did at that very moment. So to hear you say, you haven't had a good fuck since Savannah, it pretty much kills every thing I've held onto to get me through the days since you rejected my proposal. And it means either you're a bitter liar or a lying whore, Peyton. Which is it?"

She could hear the anger and the frustration pent up in his voice, but she wouldn't cave. She wanted him to feel the pain she felt, wanted to push him to the very limit.

"I'm both, baby," she said pushing back against him, her hips rolling against him. He let out a sound that crossed between a strangled moan and a hiss.

"I want to tell you something, Peyton Sawyer," he muttered as he pressed her closer to the door, "You've got a lot of fucking nerve."

"I know," she said quietly, "I know."

"And I love you so much it hurts," he said as he planted kisses along the back of her neck.

"Feeling's mutual," she panted, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm going to hell because of you."

"You were already going there," Peyton said as he turned her around and slammed her back against the door. She let out a long moan, "I'm just going to be keeping you company there."

He leaned back and glared at her. "I really fucking hate you."

"That feeling would also be mutual."

And then he kissed her. Lips pressed hard against hers as if she'd disappear again if he let her go. One kiss turned to two, and two turned to three and four before the kisses all melted together into an insurmountable number.

Peyton wanted to stop. There was this logical and moral part of her brain which had grown so much since junior year and knew what they were doing was wrong and would only lead to more problems. But there was still an even larger part of her heart which said she loved this man, more than she would ever let on and more than she ever wanted to admit to.

And when the man you love is kissing you like Lucas was kissing her now, there was no way you could stop him.

So she didn't stop.

Soon the kisses slowed, becoming more languid and sensual, lacking the frenzy of two people caught up in a stolen moment. Eventually Lucas pulled away from her, a small, almost innocent smile on his face. He laid her down on the floor, on top of a couture dress he promised to pay Brooke for. With the length of his body pressed against her, he whispered words that were painful to hear; even more painful probably for him to say.

Their tears mingled on each other's cheeks. Love declarations went unspoken but felt in each gasp and moan as their bodies became one and they lost everything that had been balanced on a thin tight rope for four years.

When it was over, they laid together, a tangle of naked limbs and slow, steady breathing.

"For the record, that night back in the pantry was the best night of my life," Peyton said breaking the silence that had stretched between them.

"I know it was."

"This one comes close."

"It does," Lucas sighed, pressing a kiss against her forehead, "You're going to run away now, aren't you?"

"Lindsey loves you," Peyton said, not answering the question. She traced a small circle around his heart.

"I love her too," Lucas whispered, "but you and I know it's not the same."

"It doesn't fix anything. We're not sixteen anymore and we can't do things like this and just expect things to fix themselves."

"You're right. Adults don't fuck to solve their problems."

"Don't be crude," Peyton said, sitting up and reaching for her dress. He pulled at her hand.

"I'm sorry. Just…just please stay."

She looked at him, frowning, but obliged curling next to him. When she was sure he was asleep, she slipped out of his embrace. She silently dressed, all the while watching him sleep. Her heart breaking more and more with each moment that passed, but she knew what she had to do. Lucas needed to make this decision on his own, just like she had when she woke up alone that night. So she left him, there on the floor with just a piece of paper with the word "forever" scribbled upon it.

It didn't shock her at all when she got the phone call from Haley the next day telling her Lucas had proposed to Lindsey.


	4. Chapter 4: Marriage

A/N: This is the longest chapter by far. It's also the most important because it's the first turning point in the story. There are three sections to this story. And next chapter we enter the second section. This is angst at it's purest, and it truly broke my heart to write it. Ugh. I wish I could write fluff.

Anyways, enjoy! Next chapter will be out Friday or Saturday. And it won't be nearly as long. Oh and thanks again to my dear Ellie for the beta.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill. It's all Mr. Schwann's.

Chapter Four: Marriage

Marriage, like most things, was created by society. It was a way for those who claimed to have found their other half to celebrate. The soul had been completed. Of course, there were other reasons for marriage, economical and spatial, which should be addressed and even the most fool-hearted romantic would tell you marriage was not all about love, but marriage wasn't about setting people up with a person they hated either.

Marriage was created to ensure both parties the best and/or most suitable life for themselves. The other reasons kept us from running away with the notion that love or what we thought was love would be just enough to sustain a lifelong partnership.

Somewhere along the way we started marrying just for love or just for stability and we stopped holding out for the person who provided both. A soul mate is someone who provides the intangible love and the tangible steadiness all in one.

Marriage used to be the union of two halves; of the concrete and abstract.

Now, it's just the union of two bodies whose souls are most often still searching.

* * *

Peyton didn't remember much about the next six months. It was a blur of work and avoiding Lucas and all questions relating to Lucas. Those included "Where did you two disappear to that night?" "Why aren't you two talking anymore?" and "Why the hell did Lucas pay me for a couture dress I never sold him?" 

That last question always brought a small smile to her face though, and Brooke decided she didn't want to know what had happened to that dress or in the back of her shop in general.

Avoiding Lucas had been easy. He was avoiding her too, and had taken to spending his days locked up in his house, writing up a storm according to Lindsey. Yes, Peyton still saw Lindsey because she was guilty and she had to keep up appearances. Lindsey had come to think of her as a friend.

She turned down the offer to be a bridesmaid though and explained politely that it would just feel too painful to stand up there. Lindsey understood. (Lindsey always seemed to understand.) But she kept Peyton involved, and Peyton didn't mind. She needed to accept that Lucas was marrying this woman.

It was easy up to the night before, the rehearsal dinner.

"I don't want to do this."

"You don't have a choice, Peyton," Brooke sighed as she flattened her dress.

"Brooke," Peyton said quietly, "I really can't do this."

"It's just a couple of hours. Seriously, Peyton, if you can't handle this party, how the hell are you going to handle the wedding?"

"I'm not. I probably will get five minutes into it before I burst into tears and storm out of the church."

"And you say you're not one for dramatics," Brooke said, her lip curling up in a twitch of a smile.

Looking back, Peyton could say with firm conviction that right then there was a crackle of electricity, like a blip on the radar that caused a sudden jolt in her brain. It resulted in the conversation taking a curious turn.

"I had sex with Lucas," Peyton blurted out. Realizing what she said, she threw her hands over her mouth, her eyes bulging.

The resulting smack threw Peyton off guard.

"What the hell, Brooke?" Peyton cursed grabbing her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Brooke said, her face mirroring Peyton's shock, "I just had this weird flashback to junior year. And I never did get to hit you for that."

"Yes you did," Peyton argued.

"No. I slapped you for liking him again. I never slapped you for the hotel room incident."

"A slap is still a slap."

"Thus bringing us back to the topic at hand," Brooke said, taking Peyton's hands in her own, "Sex is still sex. So we can't just blow this off."

"I don't want to talk about it," Peyton sighed.

"You think I do? You slept with an engaged man."

"He wasn't engaged when I slept with him."

Brooke's eyebrows furrowed, "Wait…when did you sleep with him?" Suddenly her eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh my God! My couture dress! The night of the…oh eww! Peyton!"

"Brooke, I-"

"Wait a second wasn't that the day before he propos-"

"Yes," Peyton said, cutting off her train of thought.

"But then why would he propose?"

"Because he's Lucas," Peyton smiled, "And I'm Peyton. And we're just not good at trying to make things work. We prefer all this angst."

"Masochists," Brooke sighed, "I feel so bad for Lindsey."

"And you think I don't?" Peyton grumbled, "I really like her."

"Apparently you didn't like her enough to…I don't know…not sleep with her boyfriend."

"Brooke," Peyton sighed, rubbing her eyes, "You and I have been friends since we were nine years old. We've been through everything together, and I love you more than my own family. You are my sister. Yet I still chose Lucas twice over you."

"Why'd you have to bring all those bad memories up?" Brooke asked, giving Peyton a sad smile. She pushed one of the curls back off of Peyton's face.

"To show you that if I could deny Lucas, I would, but I just can't. I don't think I ever will be able to."

There was a moment of silence where Brooke and Peyton just sat together, hands intertwined; Brooke absorbing the new information, Peyton thinking about how twisted her relationship with Lucas was.

"Peyton, you can do this."

"Why do you keep saying that?" Peyton groaned.

"You can do this because you are Peyton Sawyer. You've survived two dead mothers and a psycho stalker. You love this man, and you are going to support his decision because you are strong enough to live without him," Brooke affirmed, before letting out a deep breath, "And if you don't think you can do this yourself, it's okay because I'm your date for the night, and hell, we'll do it together."

She smiled at Brooke. Her best friend always had a way of making her feel like she was capable of anything.

"I don't deserve you, Brooke Davis."

"No, but I don't deserve you either."

Peyton eyebrow's furrowed, "Somehow I don't think that makes any sense."

"You're probably right, but just go with it. We're having a moment."

* * *

Lucas sipped from his glass of cheap champagne. The liquid burned as it slid down his throat, but then maybe it wasn't the champagne that was burning. Maybe it was the sight of the woman across the room, the woman he hadn't caught a glance of for six months. 

Peyton Sawyer, the constant headache for Lucas Scott.

Lucas forced his eyes back to Lindsey, laughing at some joke her father made. He hated this, hated his future father-in-law, Mr. Strauss. The man was a chauvinistic pig, always putting down Lindsey because she was nothing like her brothers. He found Lucas' writing shallow and pedantic. He had literally scoffed at the love story Lucas had told in his first novel.

Maybe what was even more unsettling was he was without a doubt Team Peyton. Silly, Lucas knew, but Lindsey's father had assumed the relationships Lucas wrote about in his book were fake, or in the least exaggerated. He saw Lucas's character as an idealistic dreamer with no future ahead of him, as long as he let go of the only source of inspiration he had. That, Mr. Strauss had said, was foolish. The main character would have never given up that easy. 'Wasn't this a love story?' he had asked, and when Lucas had reassured him, he quirked an eyebrow, 'Then where's the happy ending.'

Lindsey had stuck up for him saying not all love stories end happy, but somehow that answer satisfied neither of them, and to make a long story short, ever since then, Mr. Strauss had decided that Lucas was not only a terrible writer but a terrible romantic and shouldn't be marrying his daughter.

Lucas could have told Mr. Strauss that he shouldn't be marrying his daughter, but he knew that conversation would not bode well.

Marriage was supposed to last forever, and while he could see himself with Lindsey down, the road the thought of growing old with her scared the crap out of him. He had only ever envisioned growing old with one person, and it wasn't Lindsey. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out whom.

* * *

Peyton clutched tighter to Brooke's arm, her fingernails digging into the tender flesh of her inside elbow. Brooke hissed quietly. 

"P. Sawyer, you're hurting me," Brooke whispered.

"Sorry. If you want, we can just leave."

"Nice try."

"It was worth a shot," Peyton sighed as she straightened herself.

"Listen. We'll just say hi to Lucas and Lindsey, down a couple flutes of champagne, and then sneak out the back door."

"I like that plan."

"Okay so then let's go find the happy couple."

"Wait, right now?" Peyton asked, her eyes darting around the room.

"Yes right now," Brooke said, "The faster, the better, right?"

"True," Peyton answered, "But they're busy with Lindsey's parents. I think we should hit the bar first instead."

"It's even better if they're preoccupied. It means we don't have to have a long, dragged out, awkward conversation."

"Fine." Peyton sighed, eyeing the bar regretfully before she followed Brooke's lead. They approached the happy couple, fake smiles in place.

"Hey guys," Brooke greeted poking Lucas in the side. He turned to face them, his eyes immediately locking with Peyton's. They stayed that way for only a second before Peyton's returned to the ground and Lucas' stayed staring at her head of curls.

"Hey!" Lindsey chirped, "Glad you both could make it."

"Glad to be here," Peyton said, happy to make eye contact with someone other than Lucas.

"Oh dad! You'll love this," Lindsey mused, "This is Peyton Sawyer and Brooke Davis. Peyton, Brooke, these are my parents."

"The Peyton Sawyer?"

Oh God. Lucas thought. He could already see the smug look forming on Mr. Strauss' face. Why in the hell would Lindsey mention such a thing?

"Umm hey," Peyton awkwardly extended her hand, "Nice to meet you both."

"Here, I always assumed Peyton Sawyer was made up, but may I just say Lucas hardly did you justice in his book."

"Oh…" Peyton mumbled, her head ducking so that her curls fell into her face. Lucas felt his chest tighten at the sight. She was so beautifully modest.

"But we'll just chalk that up to bad writing," Mr. Strauss smiled.

"Ha!" Brooke blurted out, before blushing, "Sorry. It was funny."

"Indeed," Mr. Strauss replied, "Ms. Sawyer, would you mind if I bought you a drink? I'd like to know what my daughter's getting into marrying your ex."

"Why the hell not?" Peyton joked, "I'll give you all the details." Only Lucas saw the evil glint in her eye.

"Lead the way," he gestured toward the bar, and the two of them walked off.

"That can't be comfortable for her," Lindsey frowned.

"I know I'd hate it," Brooke said, "No offense Lucas."

"Offense taken. I'm still not over you laughing at his comment about my writing."

"You're such a baby," Brooke rolled her eyes.

"He's just sensitive," Lindsey laughed, patting his arm. A loud laugh jarred through the room, and the group turned to see Mr. Strauss nearly falling off his stool at the bar, while Peyton tried to contain herself.

"I'll go rescue her from your dad," Lucas said, giving her an apologetic smile. Brooke almost smirked. Clearly, Lucas was paranoid about the two interacting because there were no signs from Peyton that she was uncomfortable. Internally, she cheered for her friend.

"That's a good idea," Lindsey nodded.

"Well, that wasn't awkward," Brooke drawled, as soon as Lucas was out of sight.

"You know it's not meant to be when your father is rooting for your fiancé to be someone else."

"You've read the reviews, Lindsey," her mother said, "Half the country was rooting for them."

Mrs. Strauss didn't say another word, just took off, her champagne glass in hand. Brooke noticed the tears Lindsey tried to hide. She knew what it felt like to be Lindsey. She too, had loved Lucas Scott at one time and she too, had to deal with the constant pressure to live up to the presence of Peyton Sawyer. But, she had learned that she would never be able to actually do it, and now she felt for Lindsey, who was too fragile to walk away, too blinded by Lucas's sweet words to see the truth, the one that had been spelled out for her in Lucas's book. Peyton was always going to be there.

"It'll be okay," Brooke said patting her on the arm. A necessary lie.

"Thanks," Lindsey smiled. A necessary smile.

* * *

"Mr. Strauss, do you mind if I steal Peyton away from you for a second?" Lucas asked. 

"Go ahead…Rakeboy," Mr. Strauss let out a bark of a laugh before ordering another drink. Peyton smirked at Lucas, trying hard to contain her giggles. Lucas glared and led her away, his hand like a vice grip on her upper arm. She expected him to steer her back to where Brooke and Lindsey were but instead he took her out back, where the waves were crashing gently against the shore and an orange haze was settling as the sun set. It was a beautiful sight.

"You just had to tell him about that, didn't you?" Lucas muttered, amusement unable to be contained in his tone.

"Well he asked if we had any pet names," Peyton shrugged.

Lucas let out a low groan, leaning against the balcony and rubbing his eyes, "This is so embarrassing."

"Kind of," Peyton admitted.

Lucas turned his gaze back to the beach. The sandy shore looked so inviting, so calming. He turned to look at Peyton and saw her admiring the scene, and he knew that what he was looking at now was much more beautiful then any beach.

"Come with me."

"What?" Peyton asked, her eyes snapping to meet his. He offered her his hand.

"Come with me down to the beach?"

"Lucas, I—"

"Just for a few minutes, Peyton," Lucas begged.

Peyton's eyes flickered back and forth from the outstretched hand and his eyes. Finally she nodded accepting his offer, and felt her fingers slip into his hand. He led her down the beach, far from prying eyes. With each step, it became more real to him that this would be the last day with her. His last day of freedom. Why, then, did freedom feel so damn oppressing?

They sat at the edge of the shore, both of them removing their shoes and tossing them behind them. When the task was done, Lucas recaptured Peyton's hand, placing the intertwined limbs on their touching legs.

Peyton wanted to smile at the gesture, but she couldn't. It hurt. All of this, it hurt.

"This is wrong," Peyton finally spoke, breaking the silence which had settled over them, "And I don't know what's worse Lucas, the fact that is wrong or the fact that you know it's wrong, and you keep doing it."

"Doing what Peyton?" Lucas said. Her voice was so tired and weak it made Peyton's heart break even more.

"Holding onto us, keeping me so close to you, and yet so far away. It's breaking my heart Lucas."

"You think I want to do this, Peyton?" Lucas whispered.

"Sometimes yes," Peyton answered, her voice just as quiet, "Sometimes, I feel like you want to have your cake and eat it too. Lindsey's successful and smart and rich and she can give you everything you want. And I'm that back up plan-"

"You're not a back up plan. You're everything, and you'll always be everything. You know it."

"Then why the hell are you marrying her?" Peyton cried.

"It's not that easy, now, is it? We keep walking away from each other, Peyton. It seems like we'll never be enough for each other."

"But Lindsey's enough for you?" Peyton hissed.

"No," Lucas replied honestly, "Not even close. She's not you. But I'm enough for her, and that's good enough for me."

"You were enough for me."

"I don't think so," Lucas sighed, his eyes peaking up at hers. Both of them were tearing up.

"Well, you were," Peyton sighed too, reaching behind him for her shoes. Their hands sliding from each other's grasp. She pulled on her shoes, all the while Lucas watched in silence. She looked over at him one last time, placing a tender kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye Lucas."

She turned her body to get up, but felt it being pulled back to the sand, a hand yanking at her wrist. She turned to look at him, and her mouth was immediately covered by his. His tongue barely skimmed over the back of her lips before he pulled away so that they were just grazing each other.

"Good bye, Peyton," he murmured.

And at those words, Peyton did what she did best. She ran.

* * *

The next day Peyton was dressed early, ready to go to the chapel. Brooke was surprised to see her friend so content, but then Brooke didn't know what to expect from Peyton. She loved Peyton, she did, but she couldn't read her. She never claimed to be able to either. She didn't know what was going on under those curly locks, and sometimes she was glad she didn't. All she could do was offer Peyton support. 

And when Peyton grabbed her hand when they approached the chapel, Brooke didn't even hesitate to clutch it tightly.

Peyton was on a mission. Today was the day she was going to give Lucas an ultimatum, just like he had tried once before with his proposal. Only this time, this would be for good. She wouldn't be fooling herself into thinking otherwise. Once Brooke had settled in the second row, Peyton shook her off, saying she needed to get a little air before the ceremony. She walked into the narthex, towards the back room. Outside, Skillz, Mouth and Nathan were waiting.

"Is he in there?" Peyton asked. The boys exchanged looks, making Peyton roll her eyes. "I'm not here to stop the wedding. I just need to talk to him."

"Go ahead, P. Sawyer," Skillz shrugged. Peyton just nodded before knocking on the door.

"Who is it?" Lucas's voice rang out through the thick door.

"It's Peyton."

There was a long pause, a good forty second at least. "Come in."

Peyton slid into the room. Lucas was adjusting his tie.

"Hey," she whispered.

"Hi," Lucas said meekly. He glanced up from his task and smiled, "You look nice."

"Thanks. You look good too."

"It would be better if I could get this stupid tie to lay right."

"Here. Let me," Peyton offered. He nodded, releasing the silk strip from his fingers and stepping closer.

"Thank you," he said.

"I need to tell you something," Peyton said.

"Peyton, I-"

"I need you to promise me you won't say a word, not even when I finish, okay?"

"I love you, Lucas, you know that. And you know I came back for you. And you know I will always love you and that I'm tired of running from you. And in your heart, you know that you've always been enough for me. You know all of this and I don't know what more you need me to tell you to show you that I want to be with you…now and always.

"But, I want to make something clear before you go up that aisle. You have a choice, Lucas. I'm going to sit in the back row of the Church. I'm going to listen to your vows, and if you decide that you don't want to marry Lindsey, then we'll go from there. But if you say I do, it's over, for good, okay? Because if you commit yourself to Lindsey for the rest of your life, I have to respect your decision, and I don't want to be the 'other woman' ever again. If you say 'I do,' I'm going to walk out of that church and I'm not going to see you again. Not in person, not in pictures, not through letters. And I want you to respect that."

She felt a tear slip down her cheek, but she kept going, her eyes briefly glancing up to meet his.

"And since I probably won't ever see you again if you do go through with this, I just want to tell you…thank you. For everything you've done for me. And I wish you nothing but happiness."

She finished her speech with a sad smile on her face and saw in his eyes the confusion billowing and building. He opened his mouth to speak but Peyton placed a finger over his lips, quieting them.

"Think about it." She reached up and gently kissed his cheek before heading into the church and taking her place in the back aisle.

A few minutes later Lucas charged up to the front. His eyes doing a good job of hiding the emotional turmoil he was feeling, but Peyton saw it. He took his place and released a deep breath, and Peyton knew they were losing this battle.

The beginning of the wedding went by in a haze. Peyton didn't even notice Lindsey, in her puffy taffeta filled dress. She was too busy focusing on Lucas and her own sweaty palms. She saw how his eyes kept flickering to the back row, to her very own before glancing back at Lindsey with what could only be described as an apologetic smile.

It came to that moment. The I do's. Lindsey said hers without a flinch and then the question was turned on Lucas.

This time his eyes locked with Peyton's for good. It was as if he was memorizing every feature of hers, every tiny detail. When the priest's question was finished, Peyton was able to make out the small tear that slid down his own cheek, and she knew without even needing to hear him say the words.

"I do," Lucas whispered, his eyes going back to meet Lindsey's, a forced smile coming to his face.

Peyton closed her eyes and took in a breath before slipping out of the church.

She would have loved to say she didn't look back, but she did, at least three times. She would have loved to say she drove to the airport to take the first jet to L.A., but she didn't. She drove home to the house she shared with Brooke and locked herself in her room.

She'd love to say she didn't shed one tear for him, but she cried for days.


	5. Chapter 5: Distance

A/N: For the record, I am indeed a masochist. I really didn't think that before, but I reread chapter four and realized this. Mark Schwann must be a masochist too though because he's about as big an LPer as I am and OMG DID YOU SEE THAT LAST EPISODE? I seriously called it. I mean…I knew he proposed to Lindsey, but I didn't know it was going to be RIGHT after he kissed Peyton. So yeah…I win. But really I lose because that whole episode was utterly depressing. But I'm not going to go on and on about how much it killed me and how much they ruined Luke's character. That would just take up space.

Oh and someone asked about the opening paragraphs to each chapter. I write those paragraphs myself. :)

Oh! And mostly all of you are wondering if this is going to have a happy ending…well take a look at the other stuff I've written and you tell me.

Oh and….no wait I've run out of "oh's"…So just go enjoy the chapter. And review, cause they make me smile. Next chapter should be out Monday or Tuesday.

Chapter Five: Distance

The statement 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' begs the question when did we start lying to ourselves? Because in all honesty, absence for a period of time will indeed intensify feelings, but it's only because we're beings accustomed to longing for things we don't have.

The heart therefore is not growing fonder with the increased absence. It is only growing bitter. It becomes angry and hostile. Because once we realize that someone isn't coming back, we start asking questions. Why did he/she leave? Why aren't they back yet? Do they hurt as much as I do? Did they ever love me like I love them?

The answers our mind imposes only succeed in making the person in question out to be the villain. We're people fixed on polarity and the absence of shades of gray. Therefore, if your special someone has been gone for too long, they never loved you. It will never be the same when they come back. And most importantly, it is all their fault.

After all, they were the ones who created this chasm.

* * *

After the wedding, Peyton spent a good amount of time holed up under a pile of blankets with a bag of Matt's Chocolate Chip Cookies and around six boxes of Kleenex. Occasionally Brooke would peak in, and poke under the mass on the bed to make sure she was still breathing, but their conversation was always clipped. Brooke knew Peyton needed space. She also knew that Peyton Sawyer was a fighter.

She was like a phoenix. She could rise from the ashes, rebuild herself and just make do. Peyton was the type of person who had been through so much already, that it had numbed her core. She felt pain, and it was heartbreaking and damaging, but it never could truly break her. She had kept herself blocked off, a wall surrounding what was left of her heart.

It made her able to keep going even when she didn't want to or see the need to. Brooke of all people knew it best.

So when Peyton climbed out of bed one week later, dressed to the nines and ready for work, Brooke handed her a cup of coffee and smiled.

"Welcome back, P. Sawyer."

"Thank you B. Davis." She took a deep breath. "Today's a good day."

Brooke furrowed her eyebrows. It was one thing for Peyton to come out of her shell, it was another for her to be…dare she say it? Cheery. "Are you on drugs by any chance?"

"Nope. I'm just tired of crying and I'm tired of waiting. I'm going out and doing something with my life, and that means I'm going to start signing bands on the road. I figured it out last night, and it turns out I have enough money to hire someone to man the office here in Tree Hill. The three bands we've signed so far are making headway with the agents we've got and there's no need for me to stay here when there's plenty of small town talent out there."

"I see," Brooke said, stirring her cup. "And this isn't just your way of avoiding Lucas?"

"Now why'd you have to go and mention his name?" Peyton frowned, but there was humor in her tone.

"It's a valid question."

"I guess. But no, it's not just my way of avoiding Lucas. I'll admit that it helps me avoid him, but it's more my way of getting over him. I'm-"

"-burying yourself in your work? Yeah I got that."

"You don't approve?"

Brooke stared down at the portfolio in front of her and thought back to the time when Hoes Over Bros had made her forget about Lucas.

"I approve wholeheartedly," Brooke nodded, "I just think you should know something before you head off like Ponce De Leon."

"What?"

"This came for you this morning," Brooke sighed, handing her the letter. Peyton glanced at the front, her name scribbled in familiar chicken scratch.

"I don't want it."

"Peyton, you need to read it," she sighed, "Think of it as closure."

"There is no closure," Peyton said, darkly, but she took the letter. Brooke expected her to go back to her room, but she didn't. Instead Peyton took a seat at the counter and tore the letter open.

_Peyton,_

_I know you said that I shouldn't write, and that's why I'll keep this short. Lindsey and I are moving to New York. It was the least I could do for breaking your heart again. I don't want you to have to suffer seeing __Lindsey and me__ around town, and it hurts me just as much to see you._

_Besides Tree Hill will never feel like home again without you by my side. I take full responsibility for that._

_Yours always (and I mean that),_

_Lucas_

"He's moving to New York," Peyton whispered, her heart so numb it didn't register any of the pain.

"They bought a nice condo with a view. I saw the pictures," Brooke said.

"Good for them," Peyton said shortly, "But this doesn't change my mind about leaving either. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get to work."

"It'll be okay, Peyton," Brooke reassured covering her hand over Peyton's.

Peyton glanced back, and for a moment, all the masked confidence drained from her face, and the fear allowed itself to be seen. She merely nodded before heading out the door.

Brooke watched her go, her heart breaking for her friend. She glanced down at the portfolio again. It was at times like this, she really hated Lucas Scott.

* * *

Peyton took in a deep breath savoring the fresh air. She had missed it. The stuffy air, a combination of grief and evaporated tears, which had filled her room the past few weeks had made for an almost suffocating existence. The outdoors provided a sense of newness. Rebirth, almost.

It was so nice, that Peyton decided to walk to lunch instead of having it ordered in. She took to the beachfront, nearly skipping down the boardwalk. She was so absorbed in the view and her ice cream cone (Peyton's version of a balanced lunch) that she didn't even realize someone was calling her name until they poked her in the side.

She nearly shrieked at the sensation but recovered seeing the smiling face in front of her.

"Hey Lindsey."

So much for the good, Lucas-free day.

"Hey! I'm so glad I ran into you! I just came from Brooke's. I was looking for you."

"Well you found me," Peyton replied, with the biggest smile she could muster.

"You have been MIA since the wedding. In fact, I don't think I even caught you at the reception, but then everything was so crazy then."

"Yeah it was." Peyton bit her lip. She really was getting way too good at lying.

"Anyways, I know we announced at the reception that we were going to wait a few months before we moved to New York, but Lucas has been adamant that we go now, and well I can't complain. I love it here, but you know, New York has always been my home."

"I get that," Peyton nodded.

"I know you do," Lindsey smiled, "It's why you came back here, right?"

"Exactly." Ha. Wow, she was really, really good at lying.

"Well anyways, my point was we're having a going away party before we leave. It would be on Saturday."

"Oh darn. This Saturday?"

"Yeah. Is that good for you?"

"You know what, actually, I'm heading out of town for work this Saturday and I won't be back...well I don't know when I'll be back. I'm going to have to miss it." She tried to look disappointed, but she doubted it looked anything sincere.

For Lindsey's part, she didn't notice.

"I totally understand, Peyton," Lindsey said giving her a genuine smile which made Peyton's stomach turn in self loathing, "Work is work."

"And work is a bitch," Peyton laughed.

"Well, it can't be too bad. Lucas says you love travelling."

"Really?" Peyton quirked her eyebrow.

"Yeah, he says you love the opportunity to just pick up and leave," Lindsey said, oblivious to the double meaning behind Lucas's words.

"Oh he's totally right," Peyton nodded, trying to resist the urge to grit her teeth, "I guess he and I share that quality."

"Definitely. So where you heading off to?"

Peyton grinned before answering.

Payback was definitely a bitch.

* * *

"I saw Peyton today," Lindsey spoke as she finished packing up the last of the boxes in their kitchen.

Lucas nearly dropped the lamp he was holding and shattered it into a billion pieces. He cursed to himself; that wouldn't have been conspicuous at all. "Yeah?"

"Yeah, she said she wasn't going to make it to our going away party."

Lucas shook his head. He didn't expect her to come, but it still hurt knowing the last image he'd ever have of Peyton Sawyer would be of sad eyes and a broken smile. "Well that sucks. Did she say why?"

The question was null and void, and part of Lucas knew it, but the other part knew it had to keep up appearances and if he and Peyton were supposed to appear to be friends, then he had to ask why she wasn't coming.

"She's got to work. She's heading out of town the night we leave."

"So she's signing a band?" Lucas asked, his attention perking.

"Actually, no not a band per say. Apparently she knows this really good singer from high school that she's been trying to get back into contact with…oh she told me his name…uh…"

"Jake?" Lucas asked quietly.

"Yes!" Lindsey said clapping her hands together, "That's it. Jake Jagieleski. She told me you used to know him. Apparently, he lives in Savannah now and he's interested in what she has to offer. Do you remember him?"

"Vividly," Lucas nodded, "He was a good guy."

"I figured. Peyton said it was pretty hard to forget a guy like Jake."

If he tried, he could have pictured the smirk on Peyton's face when she imagined Lindsey relaying this information to him, but as it stood, he only had one coherent thought running through his mind.

Son of a bitch.

If there was one thing Peyton and him were good at, it was the war of words.

* * *

Peyton sat on her bed, packing the last of her bags. Her suitcases packed and ready to go. Brooke was out picking up dinner. They were celebrating their last night together before Peyton picked up and took off for God knows how long. Brooke had tried to hide her disappointment but Peyton could feel it. Brooke had come back to Tree Hill in part for Peyton, and it broke Brooke's heart that she wasn't enough for Peyton to stay.

At the same time, Brooke knew that Peyton needed this. And Brooke, well she could respect that. She would stay in Tree Hill until Peyton was ready to come back. Unlike Lucas, Brooke knew how to wait.

"Everything always comes back to Lucas," Peyton whispered. Her shaking hands reached for the night table and pulled the letter he had written into her lap. Her eyes immediately darted to the signature. Yours always.

This is why she didn't want him writing. Because seeing those words made her want to run all the way to his house, scoop him in her arms and kiss him until she couldn't breathe. It made her forget that he had a wife. No, scratch that. It made her not care that he had one. And that feeling alone made her feel like scum.

How had this happened? How had something so beautiful and precious as love stripped her of her morals and values? When did it get to the point where she started believing that foolish statement "the heart wants what it wants" and followed it blindly without caring for its consequences? Was their love so raw and deep that it didn't matter who they hurt to keep it?

No. It wasn't.

Peyton Sawyer was tired of love that hurt other people. She was tired of being the other woman. She was tired of pain and sorrow and drama. If she was being honest, she was tired of Lucas Scott.

She was doing the right thing by leaving Tree Hill. With both of them in separate states far from what they had once called home, they could establish new identities. They could find a new sense of self, one free from cheating and lying and heartbreak. They could move on.

The distance would be good. Maybe it was enough space to keep her from running back to him.


	6. Chapter 6: Past

A/N: I don't know exactly when the next chapter will be out. Hopefully a week. Maybe less, depending on whether I can get this next chapter done. Oh and for the record, LP won't be apart forever. Their paths will cross again, probably soon. I promise. Any other questions. Address them to me as a PM. I will answer them honestly no matter what you ask.

Hope y'all enjoy this chapter (and tonight's episode of OTH...oh the angst to come...). Remember reviews make me write so much faster.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Six: Past

The past truly haunts us. The mistakes we make days, weeks, even years ago are always nestled away in the back of our minds. Their words are like the Telltale heart, drumming against our conscience, driving us mad. Change the past. Learn from it. Embrace it. Whatever the case, it can't be ignored. Humans must face it.

Why is it we find it so much easier to remember the past than we do to plan our future? Why can't we deal with the latter without glancing over our shoulder to heed warning to the former? Is the present really so vast that it manages to completely separate past from present? Maybe we've just created this illusion that the past matters.

Maybe it helps to blanket our fears of living in the present; our fear of living with our mistakes.

Peyton Sawyer no longer loved Jake Jagieleski. It was as simple as that. And yet it wasn't simple at all. Jake was honestly the first guy she ever saw herself spending the rest of her life with. At the time, it had been a foolish proposal on her part. He had Jenny to worry about, but the fact that he said yes had given her this strange sense of hope. Before Jake, she felt as though she had never been enough for any guy, Lucas included. With Jake, she had been plenty and more, and the only thing he put before her was his daughter which was such an admirable quality it made Peyton want to fall in love with him all over again.

But she wasn't going to, and she knew it. Lucas had ruined her for any other man. The love she had experienced with Lucas had been so deep that it rocked her very core. When Jake left, Peyton had cried. She had felt sad and broken for days on end, and even when she did get over him, it had taken a good chunk of time.

When Lucas left her in that hotel room, Peyton fell apart. She had no possible way to describe how it felt. The words "sad," "hurt" and "lost" didn't even begin to sum up what she was feeling. It was an empty hole of swirling and confusing mixed emotions. And it was the fact that Lucas could keep breaking her over and over and she still couldn't let go that made it all the more worse.

Loving Lucas Scott was a different experience all together than loving Jake Jagieleski.

Besides, even if she didn't love Lucas, even if he was just another boyfriend, it had been over five years since she had seen Jake. People changed. Who knew where Jake was at in life? He could be an entirely different person now, and seeing as she had already broken his heart by proposing and the confessing her love for Lucas, she couldn't see him ever really letting her back in.

All she knew for sure was that he was interested in making a record. Their conversation on the phone had been short and filled with awkward pauses. It was nothing short of a miracle that she had gotten him to agree to make the record.

She had come to Jake first because as much as she needed to move on, she needed a piece of home with her. Jake reminded her of Tree Hill, but only of the times when she wasn't pining over Lucas. Jake was always good at keeping her mind off of her soul mate. And besides that, he was also an amazing singer with a voice like an angel.

And that brought her to where she was; standing outside Jake's apartment, trying to will herself to knock on the door.

"You know as amusing as this is. You've been standing outside my apartment for twenty minutes now, and I really need to get in there myself."

Peyton spun around on and came face to face with a smirking Jake, arms filled with paper grocery bags.

He had gotten taller, that was for sure. His hair was still the same, and Peyton was glad to see the dark circles under his eyes had all but disappeared, probably as Jenny grew older.

"Hey," Jake finally said, after what seemed like minutes of them just staring at each other.

"Hey to you too," Peyton smiled. An uneasy silence settled over them.

"This is awkward," Jake admitted, and Peyton laughed.

"Seriously. It was never this awkward."

"Well it's been five or so years since I've seen you," Jake said as he opened the door to his apartment. He gestured for Peyton to enter first and she slid inside. The place looked exactly like she remembered, and that memory of simpler times settled her worried heart.

"How's life been, Jake?" Peyton said as she watched him place his bags on the counter and begin sorting through them.

"Not bad," he shrugged, "Jenny just turned six. She starts first grade next month."

"Oh wow…"

"I know. What about you? What journey has life taken you on?"

"Me?" Peyton asked, thinking the best way to explain the rollercoaster her life had been on. "Well after high school, I worked in L.A. for awhile. It started as an internship and then I was the assistant to the assistant to the manager…you know…that type of thing. But in L.A. no one has any value on the music they put out there, so I got tired. I came home to Tree Hill, and with Brooke's help, I started my own label."

"I always knew you could do it," Jake smiled.

"Yeah you did," Peyton said, smiling back.

"What about you and Lucas? Did you two ever figure that whole thing out?" he asked, his attention diverted towards stacking macaroni and cheese boxes. Peyton's smile immediately turned into a frown. She was surprised Jake wanted to talk about that, and she didn't even know how to explain the relationship she and Lucas had had.

"We dated two years. But then the distance kind of killed us. He's married to someone else."

"Those things never stopped you two before," Jake smirked, peaking around the cabinet door. She saw the humor in his eyes.

"I don't know if I'm supposed to find that funny or if I should throw something at you," Peyton glared, playfully.

"I'm just saying…I expected you two to be riding off into the sunset right about now, not you coming to see me about a record deal."

"We weren't meant to be."

"Or maybe you were," Jake said, "And you both just screwed it up."

"Either way, Dr. Phil, I didn't come here for a lecture."

"You'll have to forgive me. Ever since I started on my degree in psychology, I've been prone to psychoanalyzing everything."

"Psychology? Really?" Peyton said, her eyes lighting up.

"Yeah."

"Tell me all about it."

"Well, there's nothing really to tell," Jake shrugged, "I finished up my GED three years ago. Now I go to the University of Savannah. Classes in the morning, work in the afternoon, and then I take care of Jenny nights."

"And Nikki?"

"Nikki's still involved. She's taking her back to school shopping."

"That's really good to hear, Jake. I'm glad you two have worked through all that."

"Uh yeah, about that," Jake said scratching the back of his head.

"What?"

"We're kind of…married."

"Excuse me?" Peyton asked, not understanding exactly what Jake was getting at. They were talking about Nikki. Psycho bitch Nikki. The woman who had had Jake arrested, stolen Jenny right from underneath Peyton's nose, and stirred up more than enough drama in Tree Hill. (Plus, she slept with Lucas. And Peyton wasn't over that above all.)

"I know it's hard to understand," Jake sighed, "Hell, she and I put each other through a lot of heart ache. At the end of the day though, it didn't matter. When you love someone, you take them for who they are, regardless of whether or not you should."

Peyton pondered his statement for a second. The words resonated so much more than they should have. "You know what Jake? I think that makes a heck of a lot more sense than I thought it would."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

* * *

Lucas stared at his computer screen. He had written 254 pages, a complete novel. Those pages had all been written in a span of six months. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that his muse only visited when Peyton Sawyer was around. He sighed clicking the mouse absentmindedly. He didn't know whether he should delete it all or keep it. 

It felt wrong to publish these pages. Here he was addressing why love didn't work. Why he and Peyton didn't last and how he found love with someone else. He was writing the logical and reasonable explanation for why he and Peyton walked away from something that he had claimed was meant to be.

They were too young. They had hurt each other too much. They weren't enough for each other. He had moved on. He was in love. They weren't the same people that fell in love before.

All lies, and he knew that, but they were necessary lies. How else could he possible explain why he gave up on them? Because, in his heart, he knew that he was the one who walked away. He was the one who ran into someone else's arms. He was the one who broke her heart, even though he was the one who promised he never would.

Call him an asshole, and he'd agree with you. He didn't think he would ever be worthy of Peyton Sawyer again, and part of him may have never been worthy in the first place.

_Peyton Sawyer will move on. Peyton Sawyer will make the most of her life. She'll be successful. She'll get married and have a couple kids. She'll smile a lot more than she ever expected to. She'll be happy. I admit that part of me wishes that happiness could have been with me, but when you truly love someone, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter. You just want to see that person smile._

Lucas stared at the paragraph, waiting for the words to transform themselves into how he really felt.

_Peyton Sawyer will never move on. I broke her. I tore her heart out, just like she tore out mine, because I'm a childish person who couldn't handle the heartbreak she doled out to me. So instead I made her suffer. She will be successful because she's going to throw herself into her work. She probably won't get married though because why the hell should she trust men after what they've put her through. She'll try to convince herself that she'll be happy with Jake, but then she'll run for him, because she knows he deserves better. She won't have kids, even though she'd make the most amazing mother. She'll make do watching kids like Jenny and Jamie grow from the sidelines._

_She won't be happy. No. She'll never truly smile again. And all the angels looking down from heaven will shed a tear because Peyton's real smile was so beautiful it could move mountains. It hurts to know I'm the reason the world won't get to see that smile again. I just want to see Peyton smile one more time. But I know it won't happen._

Lucas sighed, deleting the thoughts from his mind. The words on the page, the ones about moving on and Peyton being happy, were things that the world needed to hear. They needed to believe that you could recover from love. There were already enough stories about heart ache and tragedy. He didn't need to add another to the list.

He closed his eyes, and tried hard to picture Peyton's smile. But his thoughts were haunted by the last look she gave him. Her lips trembling as they turned down in a frown. Her eyes dripping with tears. It was as though all those happy memories he had of her had been suddenly masked by the few months of total agony he had put her through.

Even in his thoughts he would never see Peyton smile again.

_

* * *

She's tongue tied when it comes to where we are_

_She can't imagine life without her fundamental scars_

_She pretends that there's nothing left for her here._

_But when she's faced with death it's everything she fears_

_She's the standard deviant, the contradiction of terms._

_I'm always wrong when I think I've finally learned_

_When I show her the moon high over heaven _

_She sighs to me, 'Yeah, but it's the daylight I'm dreading.'_

_So tell me why…_

_She can coast, but never fly._

_And tell me why…_

_She's the one you can't deny._

_Why…_

_Is she a thousand feet above the sky, but can't get by._

_Just can't get by._

The guitar stopped, and Jake looked up.

"That's about all I've got," he said, crunching his eyebrows, "And I think it sounded a lot better in my head."

"No, it was good," Peyton reassured him, as she opened up her notepad and began to scribble things down. "The lyrics were really good. Nothing too deep or metaphoric where people could get lost, but then it's not mindless crap either. For me, the message really hit home."

"Well it should," Jake said, "The song's about you."

Peyton's eyes shot up from her note taking. "Seriously?"

"Peyton, who else do you know who's a total contradiction of terms?"

Peyton opened her mouth to respond but found nothing. "How long ago did you write this?"

"This morning," Jake shrugged.

"Wow. You wrote all that in one morning."

"Song writing comes to me in spurts. You're kind of like a muse to me. You're so screwed up and all over the place that I just find motivation from your story-"

"Thanks," Peyton deadpanned, "I'm glad that you find my tragic life useful."

"Don't get mad at me," Jake argued, "Have you read Lucas's book? That thing was fueled on your issues."

"Very funny," Peyton hissed.

"If it helps, you make a really good muse."

"Well, at least I can do something right," Peyton sighed, "Although I don't really do anything besides screw up or get myself hurt, and other people find a way to profit off of it."

She quirked a smile and looked over at Jake, but his mind was elsewhere.

"Jake?"

"I just got an idea how to finish the song! Thanks Peyton."

"Jake, that's just not-"

_She's cold from all the disappointment she's been given_

_And men of honor are making profit from her sinning-_

"Okay just shut up now," Peyton yelled, over the guitar, though she couldn't contain the grin waiting to burst forth.

_She tells me to shut the hell up_

_But it's okay 'cause I know she means it all in love_

"I'm going back to the apartment," Peyton giggled as she heard the guitar continue going.

_Pretty lady's still looking at me like I'm absurd_

_And oh my, I think she just flipped me the bird._

Just like Lucas Scott and his book were, Jake Jagieleski and his guitar were going to be the death of Peyton Sawyer's sanity.

* * *

Yeah I wrote the lyrics. And they seem kind of corny looking back...but hell, I tried. lol.


	7. Chapter 7: Voices

A/N: I needed to get this out before tonight's episode came and I started hating Lindsey even more than I already do lol. It's hard to write her sympathetic when she's such a bitch on the show. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this. Thanks to Ellie for beta'ing and thanks to all of you for the support. I appreciate it more than you know.

Next chapter should be out in a week at the latest. Part of it is already written.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH.

Chapter Seven: Voices

Words by themselves mean nothing. We as a society give them a voice in our world. We put a reason and a motivation behind everything we say. It goes further than that though. Words are almost three-dimensional. Their basic meaning can be twisted and turned depending on how the word is said.

The voice holds the key to every word spoken. Say your name, but say it as a pitted mutter, a barked laugh, a bellowing yell, a stifled cry, a drawn out sigh, or a strangled hiss. Each time the meaning changes.

It's not just a name. It can be as simple as a household object or as complex as an emotion. Say you hate someone. If you yell it, you're angry. If you laugh it, you're not angry (lest it be a maniacal laugh). If you say you hate someone while laughing with them, do you really hate them? Did the meaning change? Is hate possibly an empty word?

And if it's that way with hate, is it that way with love too?

_

* * *

_

_Six Months Gone_

_There are good writers and there are good authors and the simple difference is any writer can write one good book, but a good author is the person whose second book breaks the mold. Lucas Scott is one who falls between the cracks. His second book, __What Matters Most__, arrived in stores this Wednesday, and I like many wondered where exactly Lucas Scott would take it. _

_When Lucas Scott writes about Peyton Sawyer, you fall in love with his book. The way he describes that first meeting between the former lovers, you smile at the way he tries to downplay his awe. The protagonist is described as, "Painfully aware of her presence, even before he stepped onto that court." Lines later, he goes on, "Longing would never be enough to explain just what Peyton Sawyer invoked in me." His love is there, just under the surface._

_When he writes about moving on from her, you want to burn it. From his annoying best friend who couldn't but out of his business to his Mary Sue new girlfriend who was blissfully ignorant to the fact that her man was clearly not over his former love, the book made you want to tear your hair out in frustration. And unfortunately, unlike the regular solid love stories, there was no relief for the reader at the end. No fine tuned conclusion. _

_Lucas Scott married the wrong girl. But there was no painful longing in the writer's voice. No. There was emptiness, and as a result, the end fell flat. The writer couldn't convince us that the protagonist was over Peyton Sawyer not because the protagonist didn't believe that himself, but because the writer didn't. Lucas Scott, the author, couldn't come to terms with the thoughts of Lucas Scott, the protagonist. _

_So maybe that's why Lucas Scott wrote this book. To resolve his own feelings with Peyton Sawyer, but maybe he couldn't do it. One can guess there were scenes in his real life that he didn't put in this book. The night of Brooke Davis's boutique opening seems slightly fishy. The rehearsal dinner also seems __too__ blurry for the night before the greatest day in one's life. And because Lucas Scott has trained us to read his mind, I can only blame Peyton Sawyer. Whatever she did or said on these nights probably holds the key. And we won't ever know, but that is something Lucas Scott, writer and protagonist, can reconcile. For the rest of us, we're doomed to be unfulfilled. But maybe that's unrequited love for you._

Lucas Scott stared at the review, his hand clenching the paper tightly. He wished, heartily, that he wrote fiction instead of memoirs. It would be so much easier to read reviews like this one. Then, they would be complaining about his writing style, not about his writing style AND his own heart.

Every single reviewer seemed to agree that Lucas was meant to be with Peyton and Peyton only. They all thought he was in denial. But the truth was he wasn't. He was just trying to fool everyone else. His readers. His family. His friends. Peyton. His wife.

And lately, Lindsey didn't believe it either. He loved Lindsey. He really did. If he didn't love her, he wouldn't be planning on starting a family with her.

Both of them felt the emptiness in their marriage. There was a void between them, small enough to go unnoticed but large enough that they both were looking for something to fill it with and both of them thought a baby would do the job.

They had started trying a few weeks after the honeymoon was over. Lindsey had gone off the pill. After five months, there was no pink positive line and Lucas kept reassuring Lindsey that this was common. But Lindsey, she wasn't so sure.

Maybe they were forcing it, Lucas thought. They were still young. Granted, Lindsey was a couple years older than him, but not enough where her biological clock was ticking. Still, Lindsey insisted that they check to make sure everything was all right with them. Lucas had obliged, like always.

He heard the front door slam, a tell tale sign that Lindsey was not only home, but probably had another review in her hand. Sure enough, as she rounded the corner she was clutching a paper.

"Oh," she said, "I see you read that too."

"Listen I understand that this review is upsetting, but this guy he doesn't know what he's talking about-"

"God it's not about that!"

"What?"

"I'm not upset about this Lucas! I'm not upset about this stupid piece of paper!"

"Well then what are you upset about?"

"This!" She shoved the paper she was clutching in his hands.

Lucas's eyes darted to the paper. Medical tests…

"I'm sterile, Lucas."

* * *

"I'm walking on sunshine, whoa-oh! And don't it feel good, yeah!"

"Okay dude, cut it out."

"I can't help it," Jake grinned," I'm still psyched that Rolling Stone took the time to review my album."

"And they thought it was good."

"Well yeah that too," Jake said, "Although even if they thought it was horse manure, I'd be happy."

"You sure? It is Rolling Stone after all," Peyton chuckled.

"Exactly. I'm just happy to be in there, I don't care what they said."

"So it doesn't matter that they called you a modern mix of-"

"-soulful melody and heartfelt lyrics which transcend time and offer the listener a look into the mind of a tested young man who has survived all life has thrown at him and still manages to try and ease the sufferings of those around him with his music."

"You memorized the review?" Peyton giggled, rolling her eyes.

"Of course, I did," Jake sighed, "I think I might frame the article for my wall."

"If you're acting this way now, just wait until the record goes platinum."

"You think it will?" Jake said.

"Of course I do," Peyton nodded, as they approached her apartment, "Now, would you like to come in and celebrate with a drink?"

"I can't," Jake said, "I got to get home and relieve Nikki from daycare duty."

"Your loss, Jagieleski."

"You gonna be all alone again tonight? Cause I can bring Jenny over and we'll watch a Disney flick."

"Thanks for worrying about me, but I'll be fine, Jake," Peyton smiled, "I need to give Brooke a call anyways and those conversations can go on for hours."

"Okay," Jake said, "But for the record, I still think you need to get out more. Interact with people. Maybe get yourself a date."

"No thanks."

"Seriously, don't you ever just want to find some ridiculously attractive guy, hook up with him, fall madly in love and then fly up to New York and pull a surprise visit on Lucas? Make him regret everything he did."

Peyton let out a long laugh, "Honestly? I think about that every day. But then, I realize that if I ever do fall in love again, hopefully it won't just be to make Lucas jealous. That pettiness is too high school for me."

"I don't know," Jake shrugged, "I think everyone deep down wants to prove to the people they were rejected by that they were good enough."

"I guess," Peyton said quietly, "Part of me thinks though that if I were ever to see Lucas again, I wouldn't have the strength to walk away. Doing it once was hard enough."

"Well then maybe he'll come back to you someday," Jake whispered.

"Don't say that," Peyton sniffed, the tears gathering at her eyes, "He's married and happy and that's all I want for him. My happiness will come some place else."

"It just won't be right if it's not you two together," Jake said as he pulled her into his arms, before whispering in her ear, "He's going to come around eventually. He wrote two damn books about you."

Peyton let out a howl of a laugh, which broke off from her sobs. "You read the second one too?"

"Of course I did, and you can't pretend like that's not why you're in a funk."

"He just seemed so optimistic about me being happy again," Peyton admitted, "It made me wonder if he ever felt as strongly about me as I did about him. Or I wonder if maybe he didn't realize how much I loved him. If I took him for granted…I just….ugh! I shouldn't have bought his stupid second book!"

"But you did. And you know what it said, and you can read between the lines."

Peyton nodded, but didn't say anything else. "You should go. Nikki's gonna kick my ass if she finds out I'm the reason you're late."

"No, she likes you," Jake said, "She'll kick my ass instead."

"True," Peyton said and she watched Jake back down the stairs in front of her apartment. He made it a few steps before he turned back.

"You know I'm still not used to you two being friends," he called back.

"Yeah I'm not either."

Peyton watched him nod before he disappeared down the street. A few moments passed before it clicked in her head that she was still standing outside. Zoning out was nothing new to her.

As soon as she opened the door to her apartment, the whiff of barely dried new paint caught her off guard and she almost stumbled back into the hall. Just this weekend, she had roped Jake into helping her paint the newly purchased apartment. It was a strange feeling for her to own a place. No rent. No Brooke.

The walls were a soft, pale yellow with a hand painted border of grapes and leaves. It looked very adult, and Peyton wanted to scrunch her nose at it. She hated the fact that at twenty-three years old she was considered adult.

That was normal for most people, but Peyton didn't like normal.

Peyton threw her keys in the bowl by the door and debated whether she should start dinner or call Brooke. Neither of the tasks appealed to her, and she'd much rather take a nice long hot shower. It wasn't that she didn't love Brooke. It was the exact opposite. She loved Brooke too much, every time she talked to her she felt a surge of guilt for not being around.

When she talked to Brooke, it made her want to go home. It was a strange habit that had led Peyton to the discovery. She had been traveling a lot, finding bands in cities all around Georgia. Every time she came home to this apartment she'd feel a sudden burst of emptiness and she'd call Brooke. Those conversations brought a smile to her face, and soon she realized that no matter how many times she painted this apartment, it would never feel like anything other than temporary. Tree Hill would always be home, with or without Lucas Scott.

Somewhere in the mess of thoughts that ran through Peyton's head, she had started a pot of boiled water and began dialing Brooke's number. Killing two birds with one stone, it seemed. It wasn't until she heard Brooke's husky voice that she realized exactly what she had done.

"P. Sawyer! I've been waiting for you to call!"

"Hey," Peyton said, her voice shaking a bit in surprise. She collected her thoughts and evened her voice. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Brooke said quickly and Peyton could picture her flipping her hand casually as if to shrug the question off. "The question is, how are you? You sound shaky like you've been crying."

Brooke Davis, master reader of Peyton Sawyer even states away. Was her voice that telling or was Brooke just that good?

"No, I haven't been crying," Peyton laughed, "I just have been zoning out a lot today."

"Yeah?" Brooke said softly, "So have I. It's been a weird day."

"Really? What's up?"

"Nice try, P. Sawyer," Brooke said, "Let's hear how your week was first."

"I'm the one who called you, thus implying I wanted to hear about your day, not ramble about mine."

"Peyton-"

"Fine…Rolling Stone published a review of Jake's album and they liked it. Oh and I finally painted my apartment. Nothing big."

"No steamy rendezvous with one of your employees in the copy room?"

"We don't have a copy room. Sorry to disappoint," Peyton chuckled, "Now tell me why your day was so weird."

"Oh it's really nothing. I just talked to Haley is all."

"Haley? Since when are you and Haley on the outs?"

"We're not," Brooke replied, "Well…we weren't until today."

"What happened?"

"Haley called me today and asked me if I could babysit Jamie, and I noticed her voice seemed almost frantic so I asked what was up and she just launched into this whole speech about how Lindsey went to the doctor the other day and it turns out she can't have kids-"

"Oh my," Peyton sighed, "You're kidding me?"

"Nope," Brooke said, "So I was like, 'oh that sucks,' but I didn't say anything else, cause honestly, what's there to say? But apparently she wasn't done because then she went on for a good twenty minutes about what this must be doing to Lucas and I'm just kind of giving my half hearted sympathy while trying to figure out how to work the dryer-"

"You have to flip the switch in the back."

"See that would have been helpful to know before I called Owen over to laugh at me," Brooke sighed, "But yeah anyways, she noticed I wasn't really paying attention and got mad and was like 'don't you care about this?'"

"So what'd you say?"

"I said, well it serves him right."

"Oh Brooke," Peyton sighed. She couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or scold the other woman.

"I couldn't help it," Brooke said, "Anyways, then Haley got all flustered and was like 'I can't believe you'd say something like that! Did you ever think of how this must feel for Lindsey? And Lucas, he loves kids and blah blah blah.' So I was like 'I don't care about Lindsey and I sure as hell don't care about Lucas anymore and as far as I'm concerned I wish him nothing but the worst.' And as you can imagine, Lucas Scott's number one cheerleader didn't take that too well."

"Brooke Davis," Peyton said, "I can't believe you said that."

"What? It's the truth. Seriously, Peyton, I don't know why she told me about it. She knows that Lucas is the last person I ever want to talk about."

"Same here," Peyton muttered, "But Lucas is a big part of Haley's life. It's only natural for it to come up in conversation."

"Yeah but if I had to hear 'poor Lucas' one more time I was going to explode. It wasn't even about Lindsey, it was like she was trying to get me to feel sorry for Luke. Like she wanted me to forgive him."

"Why would you need to forgive him?"

There was dead silence. So long that Peyton wondered if Brooke had gotten disconnected or had hung up.

"Brooke."

"Yeah."

"You still there?"

"Yeah."

"Then answer my question."

"Peyton…"

"Brooke, just tell me."

"At his going away party, I told Lucas I hated him and that if he ever stepped foot in Tree Hill again I would tell Lindsey that he slept with you the night before he proposed. And umm, I told him…well never mind."

"Brooke."

"Ugh, fine. And then I told him I would never ever forgive him for what he did to you, and that I thought he was the lowest scum on the face of the earth."

"Oh my God…"

"Heh," Brooke muttered, "I'm not done."

"How can it get any worse?"

"I slapped him and left."

Peyton felt a million questions spring to her mind but only one managed to find its way out, "Did anyone see it?"

"Apparently Nathan who told Haley, but it's all good. He thought what I did was admirable, but I'm not allowed to tell Haley that."

"Oh."

"Listen, Peyton," Brooke began trying to explain, but Peyton cut her off.

"No, it's okay, Brooke," Peyton assured, "I know why you did it, and I appreciate you trying to take my side on this but-"

"That's not it. I mean it's part of it, but I did it because he took you away. He always takes you away."

"What?"

"Since we were nine it's always been you and me, and together we are at our strongest, and we can fight any demon that comes our way, you know? And then Lucas comes along, and he tears you away from me, and he makes you weak and hurt and scared and it's not you."

"Brooke, I-"

"It took me four years to get over Lucas, and what we had wasn't even half as close to what you two had. All he does is hurt people, Peyton. And I'm tired of the people he hurts being you and me. So I wanted him gone for good."

"I love you, Brooke," Peyton whispered, overcome with emotion and heart heavy with the knowledge that everything Brooke had said was true.

"I love you too, P. Sawyer," Brooke said. Peyton opened her mouth to say something more but a shrill beep echoed through the phone.

"Brooke," Peyton said, "I've got another call. Can I call you back?"

"Sure thing," Brooke said quietly. Peyton's finger hesitated over the flash button, wanting to say more to her best friend, but knowing that there wasn't much left to say.

She switched lines. "Hello?"

"Oh my God! Peyton did you hear?" Nikki screeched.

"No, what?" Peyton said absentmindedly as she flipped channels on the kitchen TV, nothing really catching her attention.

"Jake's record just jumped twenty spots on the Billboard charts!"

"What?"

"Some producer for TRL just called and said that he wanted to book Jake for the show. He's on the phone with him now. Peyton, they're predicting he jumped all the way to thirty-four."

Peyton stared down at the phone, her mouth frozen, incapable of saying anything.

"Peyton? Are you there?"

Her eyes flickered in recognition and she snapped back to life.

"Nikki, make sure Jake accepts the TRL offer. I need to call the office back at Tree Hill to verify the numbers. Tell Jake to call me as soon as he's done so we can iron out these details."

"We're going to need a new strategy, huh? I mean now that he's famous and all."

"He's not famous yet," Peyton said carefully, "He's on the brink though and we've got to be careful not to screw this up."

"You'll do fine," Nikki responded, "You've done great with him so far."

"This is a whole other ballpark."

"You're ready for it," Nikki assured.

"Heh," Peyton laughed, "Thanks."

"All right I'll let you go. Jake will probably be mad I told you before he could."

Peyton smiled at that and the two exchanged goodbyes before Peyton hurriedly called the Tree Hill office. Sure enough, TRL wasn't lying. Jake's album had hit a surge. The online campaign had paid off, big time. Peyton smiled as she listened to the reviews her staff had dug up. They weren't just praising Jake's music. They were praising his strategy.

She didn't get off the phone until one in the morning, and by that time, she was thoroughly exhausted, too tired to even call Brooke and tell her the good news. She would in the morning. Tonight, she was just going to bed. She turned off the TV in the kitchen, the one that had been running since this morning, and the apartment filled with silence. It was almost spooky.

She tiptoed to her CD collection, the one that stood side by side with her bookcase and pulled out Jake's album. The cover, by Jake's demand, was a picture of her. She had declined the idea several times, even when most of the staff agreed that she was the perfect face for the theme Jake's album was going for. She kept denying it until Jake went for the jugular and convinced Jenny, in her cutest voice, to talk some sense into her. Peyton couldn't say no to that little girl.

The shot was taken from just behind her ear, at an odd angle which showed her profile. The photograph was beautiful, though Peyton blushed every time she heard that. She didn't think it was that pretty. Sure the angle was nice and the dark lighting gave way for Peyton's natural glow to shine, but she wasn't pretty enough to be on a CD cover. She even joked with Jake that the only reason he picked her was because he knew she could cry real tears on cue for the shoot. All it took was one thought about…

Her thoughts trailed off as she turned to take a seat, a book jutting out from the shelf caught her eye. What Matters Most. Lucas's second novel was nestled next to his first. She thought for a second about the two different women who were portrayed in those books. She thought of how Lucas's views of her had changed, but how he had still kept true to his belief that she was destined for greatness.

Deep down, she wondered if he was the only one who felt that way. She had long ago given up hope of being anything other than ordinary, and she often caught the sympathetic looks Brooke had given her whenever Brooke's mother went off on how incompetent Peyton was. Brooke's sympathy wasn't what got to her, it was the fact that it seemed Brooke partially bought into it, even if she didn't want to. Brooke wasn't a fool-hearted optimist. She had her limits.

For the past six months, she had told herself that she would never be over Lucas. He had infected every inch of her life. Even now as she was on the verge of greatness, she thought of him. She wanted his approval. Since she had turned sixteen, he had been the only one whose opinion had mattered. If he loved it, then it was good, and if he hated it, it was bad.

He wasn't here anymore to pat her on the back. He hadn't led her down the right road, or kept her from straying from the path. She had done this on her own. She was the one who picked up the phone to call Jake. She was the one who came down here to record his music. She was the one who had been his muse for eleven tracks, and the cover to his album. It was all her. This victory in life belonged completely to Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer.

"I did it," she sighed, and the sudden realization of accomplishment caused tears to burst from her eyes as she released a heavy sob.

Peyton Sawyer had cried many times in her life, but there weren't many times when she could say she cried tears of joy.

* * *

Peyton and Jake are heading to New York...you know what that means? **_Lucas and Peyton will meet again in the next one._** But I can assure you none of you will be able to guess how that exactly happens hehe. 


	8. Chapter 8: Heart

A/N: Thanks to Ellie for the beta and to all of you for the reviews. They've really been beautiful to read so far and I'm so grateful for the support this story is getting. I hope you guys enjoy this. I know this story is taking awhile but I've never been a fan of just throwing LP together...I'm a sucker for the build up. (oh and off topic, but isn't BP adorable this season? I swear they're my favorite pairing on the show...more so than LP)

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH.

Chapter Eight: Heart

The heart is without a doubt one of the most complex notions in a human being's vocabulary. The word itself represents two different concepts that over the years have twisted and twined together. On one hand, we have the literal heart, the strongest muscle in the human body. It lurks in our chests, keeping us alive with a steady and soothing thumping.

On the other hand, we have the figurative heart, the lock box which compartmentalizes all our emotions and feelings. Fear, anger, joy, humor. All of these emotions are divvied up in the storage place that is the heart. Most of all, though, the heart is the symbol of love, the greatest force on earth.

It is only natural to believe that both these versions are indeed connected and not only by name alone. For instance, when you lose someone you love, it's more than common to experience a clenching and tightening in your chest, right where your heart is. Scientists, for years, have been trying to explain why it happens.

There is no logical explanation for why your chest would hurt because of figurative "heartache." The most these scientists can come up with is that humans have made the subconscious connection between the physical heart and figurative heart, and there is no way to tell how deep this connection has come to be.

And thus, it begs the question, is it possible that if heart break runs deep enough, it could literally break your heart?

* * *

"Is it possible that New York is bigger than I imagined?"

"You seriously have never been to New York?" Peyton said, as she paid the vendor for her pretzel. She offered Jake a bite but he shook his head.

"Nope."

"Well you'll get used to it. I have a feeling you'll be seeing a lot of this place."

"Lovely," Jake muttered.

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with New York."

"Yeah, well, I'm just not a big city kind of guy," Jake replied, shoving his hands in his pockets. His eyes darted around the street as if looking for an exit back to Savannah.

"It's not like you're going to have to move here or anything," Peyton said, softly, "You'll just probably be going on tour soon. You're going to see a lot of big cities, not just New York."

"You think we'll get to see Chicago?" Jake asked, holding the door open for her as they slid into One Astor Plaza, otherwise known as MTV studio.

"Eventually," Peyton smiled.

* * *

Lucas stared at the blank computer screen in front of him. His book has only been out for a few months and yet he was already feeling the pressure to start the next one. It was as if he had something to prove. He had taken to holing up in his study, only the glow of the computer shedding any light in the room.

Lindsey didn't say anything of it, but they were treading on thin water as it was. The news that Lindsey couldn't have children had struck Lucas to his very core. The one thing he'd always wanted in life was a family, a handful of kids running around and a dog and a white picket fence.

Then again, he'd always wanted to marry Peyton Sawyer and play professional basketball with Keith cheering him on from the sidelines.

Life never worked like you planned it.

Lindsey had immediately suggested adoption, and Lucas wasn't sure how to respond to that so he had opted for a maybe. Whenever he thought of adoption, he thought of Peyton, and the look on her face when she learned the truth about Ellie. Would they be honest with their child about being adopted? If they did, would she/he want to find her birth parents?

The questions had kept him up all night, and brooding all day. Lindsey had tried to pull him out of his shell, offering him distractions that for the most part kept his dark thoughts away, but always lurking in the shadows. It felt sometimes like he was on the brink of a midlife crisis about two decades too soon.

"Lucas! Come quick!"

He sighed snapping shut his laptop. Maybe whatever distraction Lindsey had in mind this time would actually do him good. He padded out into their living room where Lindsey was curled up on the couch watching MTV of all things.

"What is it?"

"Look," Lindsey said, patting a seat next to her. Lucas settled on the couch, his eyes focusing on the Nike commercial.

"What are we watching?"

"TRL."

"Any reason why?"

"You'll see."

Lucas just nodded, the sound of shrieking throng of fans alerting his attention to the show's return. He had to blink twice when he recognized who was standing next to the host.

"Hey welcome back," the host said, "We've got Jake Jagielsk with us. And if you don't recognize that name, it's okay. He's an up and coming artist whose debut single "Can't Get By" just cracked the top twenty on Billboard's single charts. His album is also well on its way to going double platinum. So basically, if you don't know his name now, you will soon enough. Right, Jake?"

"Right," Jake chuckled.

"So what was it like when you heard the album jumped twenty spots?"

"It was like an out of body experience. I seriously didn't know what to do. I think I wound up just hugging my daughter for a good thirty minutes while my wife talked to my record manager."

"The producers and I were talking about this over the break. Your label…we've both never of it."

"It's called Musicians w/ Benefits, and it was started by a good friend of mine named Peyton Sawyer. It's very grass roots. All about the artist and fans and making a product that will really please both."

"Sounds a lot more hands on than usual."

"Well it helps that Peyton and I have a history together. She's kind of become my muse," Jake shrugged, placing his hands his pocket. Lucas felt the urge to roll his eyes. If Peyton was anyone's muse, it was Lucas'.

"And you wife doesn't mind that?" the host asked, and Lucas found himself goading Jake along with the guy, only to realize he was being the world's biggest hypocrite.

"Honestly?" Jake laughed, "My wife and Peyton are almost as close as Peyton and I are."

"You know what? I'd love to meet this Peyton."

"Well she is backstage."

"Let's bring her out here then…why the hell not?"

From the entrance, Lucas could see a figure being poked and prodded up to the stage, her head ducked so that her straight blonde fell into her face, blocking those beautiful green eyes. Her outfit was not as professional as Lucas would have expected, but then maybe that was red-blooded male in him reacting to the short black skirt that showed off her smooth tan legs. She flattened her leather jacket before joining Jake, tugging at his hand, a friendly gesture that made Lucas's stomach twinge not quite from jealousy, but possibly from something similar.

"We don't have much time, Ms. Sawyer. We want to get in a song from Jake, but I have to say you look damn familiar," the host joked, dangling the cover of Jake's album in front of the camera.

"Oh God," Peyton muttered, burying her face in Jake's shoulder, "I so regret that."

"You shouldn't. You look hot, utterly depressed, but pretty damn hot nonetheless."

"Ha!" Peyton said, "Thanks."

"Seriously though, you've really done a remarkable job with your label. Most people never get here or if they do, they're ten or twenty years older than you when it happens."

"Well I can't take the credit for that. Jake's the one who got us here. I just found a way to make it come together."

"Indeed," the host said, turning to Jake, "All right man. What are you going to play for us?"

"What do you think, Peyton?" Jake asked, wry grin on his face.

"Someday," Peyton said, matching his grin.

"Okay," Jake smiled as he adjusted the guitar strap on his shoulder.

_It's the biggest storm in years, they say _

_Couldn't take a plane so I hopped a train _

_Well I'd like to stay _

_In a stormy winter day _

_So I'll come back to you someday._

It was at this point that the camera panned to Peyton. Her face was tipped into a soft smile, one that seemed nostalgic, but that couldn't reach her eyes. Lucas stared, transfixed by the inner radiance shining through the television his very soul. A million words sprung to his mind but they were but soft echoes and nothing more.

"Even if only for a day," Jake sang, "'cause I'll come back to you someday."

**If only it were that simple.**

Lucas blinked. Those words had just rung clearly through his head, muttered by the husky baritone voice of Peyton Sawyer. Her face was still on camera, happy to the untrained eye, but painfully lost to Lucas who could read her like a book.

He stood up mumbling an excuse to Lindsey who was too wrapped up in Jake's performance to notice. Lucas wandered down the hall. His hands trembled and his breaths were being drawn quicker than usual. The voice that had echoed through his head had felt so real, as if he had been reading her mind.

**If it were only that simple.**

It wasn't the words themselves that got to him, but the tired voice behind them. The one filled with aching. He could hear the heartache more clearly than any words she had ever uttered aloud to him.

Oddly most of all he knew the sentiment had been directed to him despite the fact that she was listening to Jake. There was that look in her eyes, the one she saved for when he, and he alone, hurt her. The look of utmost betrayal.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back. Lindsey's sterility. Writer's block. Book reviews that attacked him as a person rather than his book. And now this, Peyton's reminder of the heart ache they both shared, the one he had tried so hard to bury beneath the surface of everything that was crashing down around him. He felt his whole body wretch in agony at the revelations, causing him to fall to his knees. He clutched at his heart, which burned and padded violently against his chest, twisting his insides. He wanted to hurl. He wanted to cry.

The sharp pain caused his eyes to snap shut, tears falling down his cheek. He felt the world go hazy, Jake's voice falling away and silence replacing it. As the dark encompassed him, he was only aware of his body hitting the floor before it all went blank.

His heart broke for her. Literally.

* * *

"You know, Jagieleski, if I didn't know you were married, I think I'd be all over you right now," Peyton mused.

"Excuse me?" Jake said, tripping over the words.

"Well it's just this is so incredibly sweet of you. It makes you like ten times hotter than you already were."

"Careful, Peyton, you're making me blush," Jake laughed, as they exited the elevator into New York-Presbyterian's neurology ward.

"Does she know?"

"Who?" Jake asked, distractedly.

"The little girl who you're surprising with a visit."

"Uh no," Jake shrugged, "Her mom does, though, but they wanted to make it a surprise for her."

"Wow."

Jake stopped suddenly in his tracks, turning around so he was face to face with Peyton. "This is weird. I've influenced someone's life. Someone actually heard my song and found hope in it. This thirteen year old girl…I…Peyton…"

She saw the tears forming in his eyes.

"It's okay, Jake," Peyton said wrapping her arms around him, "It's a lot to take in."

"Yeah well, I never thought this would happen. Never in a million years."

"But it did."

"Thanks to you," Jake smiled wiping away his tears, "God Peyton you're amazing." He hugged her again.

"Okay there chief," Peyton laughed against the curve of his shoulder, "I think there's a little girl waiting for you in there."

"Yeah," Jake sighed, pulling away, "Do you want to come in with me?"

"No," Peyton shook her head, "I'll just hang out in the cafeteria. Text me when you're done, okay?"

Jake nodded, and Peyton watched him slide into the room. She let out a deep breath she didn't know she was holding. So far the past two days had been hectic, filled with so many overwhelming firsts for both Jake and Peyton. Yesterday's TRL had bolstered Jake's visibility along with Peyton and the label in unimaginable ways and now they found themselves being spotted everywhere they went.

Peyton was emotionally exhausted. She was learning that even if she was indeed cut out for this type of lifestyle, she still was getting used to it. She would have to call Brooke for some pointers on how to deal. In the meantime, she guessed the coffee would be the best way to get by.

Peyton headed down to the cafeteria, hoping to buy a magazine and sit out the time that Jake was busy. She could have opted for some sightseeing while Jake was busy here, but for some reason she felt the need to stay. She didn't dwell on it long. It had been a long time after her mom died before she could stomach hospitals again. But in Tree Hill, someone was always in an accident or on the brink of death, and she had learned to cope with the wretched places.

Sighing at the thought, she slid the clerk at the checkout a five. She spotted a free table in the corner where she could sip her coffee and catch up on the latest celebrity news in peace. She wondered briefly if they'd mention Brooke's clothing line in here. Now that would be something.

Flipping through the celebrity fashion pages, she took her first sip of the drink and nearly gagged. For such an amazing hospital, they sure had some crappy coffee. The magazine only kept her entertained for a few minutes and she found herself people watching instead. Everyone in the cafeteria looked so sullen, granted that made sense, but it still made Peyton depressed.

Then she spotted someone familiar, or at least, she thought the person looked familiar. She was so sure it was an illusion. After all, what would Lindsey be doing in a hospital? Unless…maybe her father was ill? Peyton frowned at the thought. She liked Mr. Strauss. The two of them had bonded in that short time they spent mocking Lucas. Even the thought still brought a smile to Peyton's face.

Peyton sucked up the courage to approach the woman. She knew deep down that this might mean a confrontation with Lucas, but Peyton felt ready for once. It was as if by coming here to New York, she had already accepted the possibility. She'd never be over Lucas, but she was learning that avoiding him wasn't going to make it any better, either.

"Lindsey?" Peyton asked timidly as she approached the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Peyton?" Lindsey asked, eyes bulged, "Oh my God! What are you doing here?"

"Long story. One of my clients is visiting a girl here," Peyton said, "What about you?"

"Oh God, Haley didn't tell you?"

"Haley doesn't have my number," Peyton admitted, "Only Brooke does. Oh God, what happened Lindsey?" Her face dropped, as her thoughts drifted from Mr. Strauss to Lucas.

"Lucas had a heart attack."

"What?" Peyton whispered, her voice crushed under the weight of her own emotion.

"I don't know how it happened. He's been taking his pills. And I've been even watching what he eats," Lindsey let a few tears slipped, matching the ones that had already fallen from Peyton's eyes, "But I found him on the floor yesterday. We had been watching you on TRL, oddly enough and he just collapsed in the other room."

"Where is he?"

"He just got out of surgery. They put him the ICU, and now I'm freaking out because Haley flew in from Tree Hill to see him and I need to go get her, but I don't want him to wake up alone."

"I'll go," Peyton blurted out.

"You'll stay with him?" Lindsey asked, and Peyton's eyes flickered. She had meant to say that she would go find Haley, but suddenly the thought of staying with Lucas seemed so much more pertinent. Her heart ached for him, for the pain he was in and the fact that by chance, she had an opportunity to make sure he was okay. It was all too much to reject.

"Sure," Peyton said softly, "If you're sure, that is?"

"Definitely," Lindsey said, "I want someone he knows there when he wakes up."

Peyton nodded, before texting Jake to let him know she'd meet him back at the hotel. She didn't give him any of the details, but she figured this was something best left to explaining in person.

* * *

It was the strangest sense of déjà vu. She had been in this place, by his bedside, three times now, and each time, the fear was just as prevalent. Even though she hadn't seen him in almost a year, it was as though she was still looking at him through the eyes of a sixteen-year-old girl, afraid of losing the only person who had ever gotten her, her true love. It didn't matter how much he had hurt her, or how much they couldn't be together, her biggest fear would always be losing him for good.

Death. It was the only thing that guaranteed that she'd never see Lucas Scott again.

She reached up to smooth down the hair just above his ear. His skin was warm to the touch, still as soft as she remembered too. She picked up his hand, the heartbeat monitor hooked on his index finger making it difficult for it to hold. The only safe place in this world had been with that hand wrapped around her own, or on the small of her back.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing his hand. She settled her head down on the space next to him, listening carefully to the rhythm of the machine. Her eyes had only been shut a second when she felt rather than heard him shift.

She perked up right away, leaning over him so she could check his vitals. It was during this motion, that Lucas's eyes cracked open. The light from the drawn curtain cast a bright glow around the woman above him. Her blonde hair even brighter than usual and when her green eyes snapped to meet his, they looked even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Is this heaven?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. He was straining to speak, to be heard.

The voice caught Peyton off guard, even if she had noticed he was awake.

"I wish, Lucas," Peyton smiled, "If it were, this would be a lot simpler to explain, huh?"

Lucas frowned, not sure what to make of this if it wasn't heaven. If he hadn't died, then why was Peyton here? He moved his mouth to ask her, but she cut him off.

"I need to go," Peyton whispered. And she did. Every moment she spent with an awake Lucas was another moment she was closer to relapsing.

"Don't go."

"No, Lucas," Peyton said firmly, "It's not like that anymore." It was a lie, and they both knew that deep down.

Lucas looked away, his eyes focusing on the large bouquets of flowers encompassing his room. "It hurts…"

"I'll have the doctor check your scar on my way ou-"

"Not the scar…"

Peyton bit her lip at the words, but didn't respond.

"It always hurts. Every. Single. Day. There's no relief." Lucas turned to look back at her, their eyes locking. "It's always gonna be there, isn't it?"

"I need to go," Peyton repeated, her eyes brimming with tears she didn't want Lucas to see. Lucas frowned, lifting his weak hand to rub his eyes.

"I understand."

She nodded at him, reaching over to briefly squeeze his hand before walking out. She paused at the doorway, mulling over whether she could say more to him.

"Hey Lucas."

"Yeah?" he croaked, straining to bring his voice louder than a dull whisper.

"You and Lindsey should look into adoption."

He sighed. "You heard about that?"

"Yeah. I think it's a shame because you'd make a wonderful father, but I'm sure there's a little girl or boy already out there who needs one."

Lucas smiled. "Thank you."

"Just do me a favor," Peyton said seriously.

"What?"

"Don't name them Sam."

Lucas' smile quickly slid from his face, replaced with a much more somber look.

"Never."

_Flashback_

"_Hey Peyton, I've got a question for you."_

"_Can it wait one second while I put my laundry in the dryer?" _

"_Go for it," Lucas laughed. _

_Peyton just smiled setting the phone down on the washer while she maneuvered the load from one machine to the other. These phone calls had become a daily thing for the young couple, the distance between L.A. and Tree Hill becoming more and more prominent as each day passed. Lucas was only a half a semester into college and he already missed Peyton more than he ever thought possible. The feeling was mutual for Peyton._

"_Okay," Peyton said, readjusting the phone on her ear, "What's your question?"_

"_Do you want kids?"_

_Peyton's jaw dropped, almost causing the phone to tumble to the ground and shatter. That question was entirely out of the blue. One minute they had been talking about the new Snow Patrol album and now…kids?_

"_Oh my God, Lucas, don't tell me you're pregnant," Peyton joked._

"_Funny," Lucas laughed, "I was just wondering. But if it makes you uncomfortable-"_

"_Yes I want kids," Peyton said finally, cutting him off. She heard Lucas take a deep breath._

"_I do too."_

"_Well thank God for that. Otherwise I would have to jump you in your sleep to get them."_

"_You think about having my kids?"_

_Peyton pulled the phone away to stare at it. What the hell was going on with her boyfriend, "Seriously, Lucas, what's wrong with you?"_

"_I've just been thinking about our future. About our kids."_

"_That's sweet," Peyton smiled, "So, what do you see us having?"_

"_A girl."_

"_Just one."_

"_No but she comes first. And then usually a couple of boys."_

"_Yeah?"_

"_And she's just like you. Curly blonde hair and bright green eyes. And she's a smart ass."_

"_I like the sound of her already," Peyton sighed. "Does she have a name?"_

"_No. Not yet."_

"_I always wanted to name my kid Sam," Peyton blurted out, her cheeks burning red in embarrassment. She'd never told anyone that before, not even Brooke._

"_Sam?"_

"_Yeah," Peyton whispered._

"_I think that's a beautiful name."_

"_Sam Elizabeth Scott," Peyton said, trying the name out aloud, like she had so many times in her head._

"_One child down, four more names to go."_

"_Four?" Peyton squeaked, "Oh the agony…"_

"_It'll be worth it," Lucas chuckled._

"Sam Elizabeth," Lucas whispered, "I can still see her."

"Me too," Peyton sniffled, wiping the tears out of her eyes, and trying to smile.

"I'm tired, Peyton," he sighed, snuggling closer to his pillow.

"Go to sleep, Luke."

"I don't want to close my eyes. You won't be here when I wake up."

"You'll always remember it though," she promised, "Like you said, it'll always be there."

"I love you," he mumbled before his eyes fluttered close.

She waited until she was sure he was asleep before she tiptoed out of the room. She studies his features carefully, committing them to memory like she had so many times before. On her way out, she had the nurse station page the doctor to check on him.

She found Lindsey in the lobby with Haley. Both the women's heads turned to look at her, Haley in awe, Lindsey with concern.

"Peyton? What happened?"

"He woke up," Peyton smiled as much as she could, "But then he fell back to sleep. I had the nurses check on him, okay?"

"Oh my God," Lindsey cried, throwing her arms around Peyton who reluctantly returned the gesture, "I'm so glad he's all right."

"Me too."

Lindsey pulled away suddenly. "Did he say anything when he woke up?"

Peyton opened her mouth but no words could come out. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Well he was a little confused as to why I was there, but then he wanted to know where you were. I told him I'd send you up."

"Oh God, I should get up there, huh?" Lindsey said, "Thank you so much for sitting with him. Haley, I'll give you a minute with Peyton. You know the room number right?"

"Uh yeah," Haley nodded.

And without another word, Lindsey ran back inside leaving Haley and Peyton alone.

"So," Haley said, awkwardly shuffling her feet.

"Yeah," Peyton said, scratching her head.

"What are you doing here?" Haley blurted out, then sighed, "Sorry."

"No," Peyton laughed, "It's okay. Umm, Jake was on TRL yesterday-"

"I saw that."

"Yeah well while we were in New York he wanted to visit the neurology ward here. There's this little girl whose mom wrote a letter to us a month ago right after the record came out. Jake's been trying to arrange a visit. But it's just been so crazy. Anyways, today we just happened to be here, and I ran into Lindsey in the cafeteria. She asked if I could sit with Lucas for a bit while she found you."

"Wow. Talk about coincidences."

"I know…"

"And the fact that he woke up while you were in the room…"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Peyton whispered, then realizing she said it out loud she sighed closing her eyes, "Forget I said that."

"I can't," Haley said slowly, "Just like I can't forget that you're probably the reason he woke up."

"Haley-"

"No. It's okay," Haley nodded, "You two connect on levels that no one, not even Nathan and I, ever could understand. There are these times…he and I will be on the phone and it will go quiet. And I'll ask him what's up and he'll mention something random like the burning boat ceremony where he stood up to Nathan or the day he came back to school after his heart attack. And I won't think anything of until that night when I talk to Brooke and she'll let it slip that you talked about the same thing that day."

"Haley-"

"You're soul mates. And I don't know if you'll ever get to be together again, but you need to know that it won't go away. You ran to Savannah and he ran to New York, but it doesn't matter how far away you two are from each other because that connection will always follow you. And that's why you need to come home to Tree Hill because living in a different city is not helping. And people in Tree Hill need you. Brooke needs you."

"Brooke?" Peyton said, furrowing her eyebrows, "What's wrong with Brooke? I just talked to her two days ago and she was fine."

"Victoria left the company."

"What?"

"She didn't want to tell you because she knew you'd want to come back to Tree Hill and she figures you need to make the decision on your own. I've tried to help her through it, but she and I aren't on the best terms right now. Plus…you're her P. Sawyer."

"I can't believe she didn't tell me," Peyton sighed, closing her eyes.

"She thought it was best."

"For me, maybe, but not for her. She's sacrificed everything for me," Peyton whispered, "It's about time I return the favor."

There was an awkward silence that followed, one that had plagued Peyton and Haley's conversations ever since Lucas and Peyton had gone their separate ways.

"I should go," Haley said, "I've only got a little time with him before I need to fly back."

"Right."

"Hopefully, I'll see you back in Tree Hill, then?" Haley asked as she backed her way into the closest elevator.

"Yeah," Peyton nodded watching her friend go. What a strange day indeed.

* * *

When she got back to the hotel, Peyton found it hard to explain what kind of day she had just had. It didn't help that Jake was overly excited about how his meeting with this young girl had went. Peyton just smiled as he explained the whole interaction to her. She figured her news could wait. When Jake finally did stop, it was only to take a shower, and Peyton took that time to reflect on her day while packing.

It would have been easy to say she learned something from the experience, but she hadn't. She still loved Lucas. Lucas still loved her. Everyone around them knew it. It wasn't anything newsworthy and nothing she hadn't known before.

But from that knowledge, she learned she couldn't fight it, but she could learn to live with it, and that's what made going back to Tree Hill, plausible.

And part of her was starting to get the idea that fate would always keep the two of them connected in strange ways.

"Hey Jake," Peyton sighed as she closed her suitcase, "What was the name of that little girl who wanted to meet you?"

Peyton heard the water from the shower taper off, and Jake yell back, "Huh?"

"The little girl from the hospital. What was her name?"

"Oh," Jake said as he came out of the bathroom, towel tied around his waist, "Sam."

"What?" Peyton said, her eyes snap up to meet his.

"Her name was Sam."

Yeah, destiny definitely had a strange sense of humor.


	9. Chapter 9: Best

A/N: Sorry this is a day over my usual deadline of Tuesday, but I kept working on the next few chapters because I'm excited for them. Honestly, this kind of feels like filler. Next chapter, will be a major turn in the story. It will also begin a break from Lucas's point of view. We'll be focusing on Peyton for a good three chapters. But I promise Lucas (and Leyton) are not forgotten, not in the least.

Please review. They make me smile and keep me updating. Next chapter will be out by the weekend (maybe before then even...)

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Nine: Best

Human nature requires that people spend their lives comparing things. It's part of the drive that is in the essence of every living being. That is the drive to win. To compete. To always improve. Bigger, stronger, faster. It's those qualities that will get you ahead in life. You need to be better than those around you if you want to be happy.

It's not irrational to think that way, it's not cynical either. There is nothing wrong with wanting the best. Because we are, after all, all striving to be perfect in a world that is inherently favoring chaos and disillusion. Life loves to throw you curveballs, ones that create disorder, and because of that, it will be a constant struggle to make the best out of one's life.

To be the best, to gain what's best, that is the ultimate unrealistic goal in human nature.

* * *

Peyton didn't know she was holding a breath until she stepped out of her convertible. It was then, seeing Brooke's house against the beach backdrop that she let out a sigh worthy of a pained lover. The sight was just like she remembered it. Nostalgia crept into her senses. Unlike the last time she returned to Tree Hill, though, it wasn't painful. She felt a sense of hope and reassurance.

She opted to leave her bags in the car for now. She wasn't the least bit surprised to see that her key still worked, and while she debated ringing the doorbell, she wanted this surprise to be truly genuine. Brooke still had no idea she was coming. It had been a week since she gotten back from New York. In the meantime, she had spoken to Brooke four times and it had taken all her willpower not to break the news of her return.

It took her awhile to get the door to open. Even with the key, the door was uneven with the frame, requiring her to twist and lift. The amount of noise she had made guaranteed that Brooke was probably aware that someone was coming in. Peyton hoped she realized it was her.

The woman clutching the bat over her head that met her when she swung the door open said differently.

"Jesus Brooke!" Peyton managed to squeak out, shedding her face in case Brooke swung out of instinct.

"Peyton?" Brooke gasped, loosening the cling on the bat in her hand, "What are you doing here?"

Peyton just shrugged, a small smile gracing her lips. "I'm home."

Brooke couldn't control the smile that slid onto her own face, but it wasn't visible long before she suppressed it with a worried frown. "But I thought you were going to go globe trotting for new bands?"

"Yeah, I'll still be doing that," Peyton said, "I just would rather do it from here. That is, of course, if my bedroom is still available for rent."

"Of course it is!"

"Well then good. I'm assuming Owen is not around otherwise you would have sent him out with the bat, so I guess it's up to you and me to haul my bags inside."

"Peyton, are you sure about this?" Brooke asked.

"I ran away," Peyton admitted, "I ran from this place, just like I always do when times are hard. I either curl up in a ball and take it, or I run from it at full speed. I've learned now though that I can't just let this feeling control me. I love Lucas. I will always love Lucas, but damn it to hell, if that's going to get in the way of our friendship again."

"Peyton-"

"I know she left, Brooke, and I know that you're not okay with it. You need me here even if you don't want to admit it."

"I'm willing to admit it," Brooke mumbled, her eyes focused on the kitchen counter, "It's just you always come first."

"Oh…"

"It's not like I regret it, Peyton. Making sure you're okay is like second nature to me. It's not something I can turn off."

"Well you don't have to," Peyton said, slinging her arm around Brooke's shoulder, "Because I'm going to do my best to take care of you now. We'll lean on each other."

"Okay," Brooke whispered, as she leaned into Peyton shoulder.

"I can't believe she left," Brooke finally sighed. Peyton peaked down at the brunette in her arms.

"I'm sorry."

"I just never thought she'd do it. I mean who does that to their own daughter?"

"She's pure evil," Peyton whispered, "And you deserve so much better."

"Yeah well…I got you, right?" Brooke sniffled, the tears starting to form.

"You'll always have me."

"I think you're better than family," Brooke said, trying to laugh, "It's always much easier to forgive you…"

"Well here's to hoping that I don't screw up again," Peyton giggled, knocking shoulders with Brooke.

"With the state I'm in, Peyton that would really be for the best."

And with that they both let out a real laugh.

* * *

Lucas cracked open his eyes. The harsh light from the window stayed pressed to his vision, blinding him. He turned his head, trying to avoid it, but it was to no avail. His body still ached so much, and he fidgeted in vain trying to pull himself up and out of the sun; away from the light.

"Lucas," a voice scolded at his side. The room was slowly becoming clearer as the grogginess from his medication faded. He saw Lindsey jumping out of her chair to help him sit up.

They had cleared him to go home yesterday and this had been the first night he spent in his own bed. There had been a week spent in the hospital, doctors rushing in and out to give him more information about his condition. In the week, he hadn't spoken much, opting to let Lindsey do the talking both for him and to him.

She was doing her best not to push him to open up, something she had gotten good at ever since they started dating. Lucas was a private person, buried deep within his own world. What he wanted most from his loved ones was to be left alone. He needed to count on them in times of need, but he in no way wanted to feel them breathing down the back of his neck, pushing and prodding for answers.

Unless, we were talking about Peyton, but like always, she was a whole different story. His eyebrows furrowed at the thought. She was always a different story, wasn't she? A complex ideal, really, in Lucas's little world. She had been the inadvertent (or maybe advertent) cause of his heart attack. She was, and would always be, the only person who could break through every wall and façade he put up. She could read him like a book.

Lucas was snapped from his thoughts when he realized Lindsey had already succeeded in propping him up in bed. A blush settled on his cheeks when he realized she was looking at him expectantly and here he had been so focused on Peyton, he had zoned out once again.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"You're welcome," Lindsey said, satiated, "You know it wouldn't kill you to ask for help once and a while."

"Yeah I know," he sighed, grinning a little at the thought. Lucas was raised to be independent. If there was one thing that Karen Roe had engrained in him as a child, it was self sufficiency. But everyone needs someone.

"How are you?" Lindsey asked, "And before you say anything, I know how generic that question is, but—"

"No, it's fine," he nodded, and then seeing her face, added, "I'm fine too."

"Are you?" Lindsey said quietly.

"Well, the scar itches a little, but I guess that comes with the territory—"

"You know what I meant. You've been quiet, more so than usual. It's like your locked away in that head of yours and I just can't help but wonder what you're thinking…"

"I almost died," Lucas said flatly. It was a weak response, but like a good writer, he knew that it was a way to elicit emotion from his audience without really addressing the problem.

"Oh Lucas…" Lindsey sighed.

The room lapsed into silence, leaving Lucas wondering where did they go next? Maybe more importantly, where did he go? It felt like he was at a crossroads, painfully aware of his life's journey to this point and aware of the fact that he really could have died. His life felt unaccomplished and dull. A best selling novel was supposed to be the point when his dreams came true, but every time he published another book, he felt empty, like a piece of his heart was being taken from him with each word he wrote.

Writers shouldn't feel like that. They shouldn't feel drained of everything when they finish a novel. They shouldn't dread the readers' response, or the reviews that would follow. Their work shouldn't appear so different to everyone else as it does to them. They shouldn't have to resort to lying in order to feel at peace with their sentiment, and they shouldn't be so transparent in their lies.

As a novelist, Lucas may have succeeded, but as a writer, he felt as though he had failed.

"There's something I have to tell you," Lucas murmured to Lindsey, breaking their silence.

"What?"

"I think I need to give up writing for awhile."

Lindsey merely blinked, her face frozen in shock. The wife and the editor in her battling for control over the words she spoke next. Lucas, sensing this confliction, continued.

"I'm tired, Lindsey. Writing used to be my passion and now it feels like a chore. After the last book, I just feel like everything I write is not up to par, and every thing I'm trying to convey to people just gets lost in the wording."

"This isn't because of those stupid reviewers, is it?" Lindsey said, grabbing his hand, "Because I don't care how many times they say that you're still head over heels in love with Peyton Sawyer, I promise I won't believe it until I hear it from your lips."

She gave him a joking smile, and Lucas swore that he could have had another heart attack right there. Instead, he tried his best to grin back, closing off the part of his mind that was screaming 'Just tell her now! It's the way out we've been looking for…'

"It's just too stressful," Lucas said, avoiding the accusation with ease, "I'd rather go into another field. Maybe teaching…"

"If you think that teaching's not stressful, Haley will kick your ass when I tell her that."

"You know what I mean," Lucas smiled, "It's a different type of stress. Not as personal."

Lindsey took a deep breath, and it felt like years passed by instead of minutes before she responded. "If you're sure about this, I'll support you, Lucas."

"Yeah?"

"Of course," Lindsey said softly, as she patted his hand, "Whatever you think is best."

Lucas nodded, before catching sight of the pair of novels he bad published, sitting idly on his side table. When he thought of writing, he thought of Peyton, and when he thought of Peyton he thought of heartache. And apparently, that heartache was still, after God knows how many years, enough to almost kill him.

Giving up writing was the least he could do for Lindsey and Peyton and hell even for himself.

It was for the best. Really.


	10. Chapter 10: Courtship

A/N: Sorry this is later than I expected. I kept writing and rewriting it, trying to get it perfect. Mostly, I just really wanna skip ahead two chapters, but I know that would be bad and make absolutely no sense. Umm next chapter will be out in about a week. It's gonna be a long one. It's also important that I warn you all that this chapter will deal with drug use (don't worry Peyton's clean). If that offends you, feel free to skip it. 

And that's all I have to say about that. Hope y'all have a Happy Easter. And that you all enjoyed that episode of OTH. For anyone who's read enough of my writing, you know I was squeeing like crazy when they referred to LP as epic love. I must use that term in every LPstory I write. It's even used in this story'ssummary. lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Ten: Courtship

Courtship is something quite unique in the human race when compared to the practices of the ones they share the earth with. For animals, the search for a mate is based primarily on primal instincts, sexual attraction. There is nothing more to it.

For humans, choosing a partner is a complex process which has come to be known as dating. There are levels on which we must connect on. Each level features a different part of the human's psyche. A level missed can and most likely will spell the end of a relationship.

Why is it that animals are perfectly contempt with choosing a mate solely on the physical? Partners live blissful lives, ones which they keep separate from the time they spend with their mate. There are no complications, no animal kingdom divorces.

If anything, maybe they're the civilized ones when it comes to courtship.

* * *

Dating.

Peyton had been avoiding the "d-word" like it was the plague. It wasn't that she didn't want to move on, because she did. She was tired of living in the past and feeling the crushing thud from Lucas's rejection always weighing down upon her. It was just too hard to forget about Lucas. It was too hard to move on.

And Peyton didn't just date for the sake of dating. She couldn't pull a Brooke and just pick up some random guy on the street for coffee and maybe sex. She had a vivid imagination, one that always made her thought stray to where that relationship was going and it always ended with the moment the man realized she wasn't over Lucas.

The funny thing about her whole dilemma was that there was only one plausible way around it in her mind, and that was to date someone with whom you saw no future with. There was one guy who Peyton knew who was the perfect candidate for that.

His name was Drew. He had short sandy blonde hair which stuck to his forehead and the tips of his ears. His lips were pale pink and full and his eyes were the most brilliant shade of turquoise Peyton had ever seen. His frame was thin, but not wiry. There were muscles filling him out.

Attractive as he was, the most appealing characteristic he had was his sense of humor and the contagious grin that came with it. He was witty and utterly sarcastic. And he was a musician with the voice of an angel and the vocabulary of a sailor, the ultimate combination of binary opposites. 

He would be the perfect catch if it wasn't for the track marks covering the insides of his elbows.

Drew was a heroin addict. A heroin addict with a brilliant personality and beautiful face, but who saw no real reason to stop doing what he was doing. And he had been hitting on Peyton, his boss, for the past four months.

It was hard for her to admit that his visits to her office and quirky emails were the highlight of what had become otherwise monotonous days since she returned to Tree Hill. As her business grew, there was less and less need for her to be the one out on the road recruiting bands, and more and more free time for her to do paperwork.

Brooke was already on the fast track to recovery, and with the help of herself and Owen, she had already perked up enough to hire someone to take Victoria's place. Keeping with the nepotism, she hired her father, which served as a way to stick it to her mother. Brooke's father just happened to be the sweetest man alive, and while he often was caught up in business trips and long nights at the office, he tried his best to show Brooke his love. Now recently retired and living a relaxing retirement in a beach house not far down from the one Brooke and Peyton shared, he was more than open to the idea of spending more time with his daughter. And when Brooke heard those words as the first out of his mouth, she knew that this would not be Victoria Round Two.

With Brooke relatively cured, Peyton found herself in a state of pointlessness, stuck in a rut almost. It seemed like another year was going to tick off her life, while she sat and watched everyone living the American dream. Brooke was slowly falling in love with Owen, the pace of their relationship like one she had never seen Brooke set with anyone else Lucas included. Nathan and Haley had seemingly worked out all the kinks of their marriage and now had settled on trying for another kid. Jake and Nikki were already pregnant and had moved their family to Tree Hill. And Peyton had no one.

Far be it for her to brood on the subject. She, too, could have had this happiness at one time, but she had missed her chance. Musing on such things made her realize there were other things she had missed out on. Humor, being the most poignant. She couldn't remember the last time she just let go and stopped worrying long enough to let herself laugh at the world. During those short times when Drew popped into her office, she allowed herself to let go. When she let her imagination wander to where a relationship with him could lead, she couldn't even imagine the first date. 

Maybe that was a good sign. Worrying had already taken her first chance at happiness, she'd be damned if it was going to do it again.

* * *

"Stupid copier," Peyton muttered as she kicked the wretched machine for the fifth time in twenty minutes. 

"You know I'm pretty sure they have people who could handle the copying for you."

Peyton turned around and came face to face with Drew, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Yeah well, I like to do my own copying. It helps me stay grounded."

"Or you like the fact it keeps your blood pressure high."

"Yeah that's it," Peyton deadpanned.

"I knew you were a masochistic bastard," Drew grinned. Peyton turned back to her work.

"Right, I'm the masochist. You don't see me jamming needles into my arms."

"Pfft," Drew said, "It stops hurting once you're used to it."

"Hey, would you mind if I asked you a question?"

"It depends. Do you expect me to give you a serious answer? Because that's probably unlikely…"

"Why do you do drugs?" Peyton's question caused the grin to slide from Drew's face, replaced by an almost bitter smile instead.

"I thought you and I agreed that you would take a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy towards that."

"I'm not asking as your boss. I'm asking as a curious person."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Well thank God I'm not a cat."

"That's right. You're a bitch instead."

"Ouch," Peyton smirked, "Clearly I hit a sore spot."

Drew raised an eyebrow at that. "Fine. Why don't you do drugs?"

"Don't turn this around on me," Peyton said, placing her hands on her hips, "I asked you first."

"I'm trying to answer your question. I just need you to answer mine first to make that possible."

"Fine," Peyton pouted, "I don't want to die."

"Ah but dying is easy, it's living that's the real challenge, Peyton."

"How philosophical," Peyton said, rolling her eyes.

"It's true though. Most people out there are like you, afraid of dying, afraid of missing out on something. The truth is though that by being afraid of taking chances, you're really only afraid of living."

"And drugs, of course, are the only way to enjoy life, right?" Peyton said, the sarcasm dripping off her tongue.

"No, I'm not naïve. I know that there are probably a hundred healthier ways to embrace living, but I like mine best. It keeps me from being friends with the hypocrites."

"Will I ever get a concrete answer out of you?" Peyton asked.

"You'll never get an answer that satisfies you. If druggies all over the world could come up with one, then everyone would be sharing needles and lighting up on every corner," Drew let out a long sigh, "It's the burden we have to carry. The only ones who will ever understand us will be each other."

"For the record, I find it seriously disturbing that you endorse needle sharing…"

"Was that the best you could do?" Drew grinned, and seeing her lack of response, he continued, "I'm safe, I promise. No sharing needles. No unsafe sex. If I die, I don't want anyone else going because of my decisions."

"How noble."

Her response only seemed to goad him more, and he propped himself up on the table next to the copier, legs swinging carelessly enough to nudge the back of her leg, annoyingly.

"Seriously, your sarcasm is blinding me. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you liked me."

"Well I do," Peyton admitted, temporarily abandoning her copying to face him, "I think you're smart and funny and really attractive, and if you weren't a drug addict, I might even consider dating you…That is if you, drug addicts, even date."

"No we only sleep with people in exchange for drugs more drugs. Otherwise, we're pretty asexual. We don't buy into that whole love and happiness thing," Drew deadpanned, "Don't stereotype us, Peyton. Otherwise, I'm going to put you in the group with loser rock executives who don't know the music."

"I am not like that!"

"Right. Well you keep fighting your label, and I'll keep fighting mine."

"Truce, then," Peyton sighed, extending her hand. Drew eyed it curiously, grin on his face, before accepting it.

"I'll pick you up at seven." 

"What?" 

"Well a truce would imply you're dropping the stereotypes, so that means we can date."

"What kind of logic is that, honestly?"

"My logic. Is seven okay for you or would you like it to be later?"

Peyton just stared at him blankly.

"Oh cheer up! You're going to love what I have in store for this one."

* * *

"So let me get this straight. You're going on a date with a guy who openly admits to doing heroin and has no real intention of quitting."

"Yes."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"If I knew that, I wouldn't be going out with a drug addict."

"Peyton," Brooke said, the concern quickly edging into her otherwise angry tone.

"It's okay, Brooke," Peyton smiled, "It's not like I'm marrying the guy or anything. I'm taking your advice and just dating for the sake of dating." 

"If I had known my advice translated to, go out and snag yourself a drug addict, I would have never said anything."

"No, I don't think you would have," Peyton agreed as she finished smoothing down the wrinkles in her blouse. "Now how do I look?"

"Gorgeous. Way too good for him."

"Good. I'm going to wait outside. I don't think I want you meeting him just yet, and Lord knows if you have the opportunity there will be fireworks."

"Why are you doing this, Peyton?" Brooke asked, grabbing Peyton's arm before she could leave the room.

"Because he's really good looking and funny and believe it or not he reminds me a lot of Lucas," Peyton said honestly, "Only he's not married, emotionally detached and living in New York, okay?"

"You forgot to mention he's also a drug addict."

"I thought by now that had been firmly established."

"I thought you weren't looking for long term. So why are you comparing him to Lucas."

"Every guy I'll ever meet automatically gets compared to him. He's like the standard deviant."

"Be careful, P. Sawyer."

"I'm always careful."

* * *

Drew showed up in an old tattered lettermen jacket with his short hair slicked back and a bouquet of carnations for her. She didn't know whether she was supposed to laugh or not, but with a polite giggle she accepted the flowers, and tossed them inside, calling to Brooke for her to put them in a vase before shutting the door behind her. He stared at her appearance; lavender blouse and skinny jeans. 

"You look nice."

For a minute, she had a strong sense of déjà vu, but shrugged it off, unsure of where it came from. 

"Thank you. So do you."

He offered her his arm in a highly chivalric manner. She obliged, increasingly put at ease by his quirky manner.

"Wait until you see where I'm taking you," he said as he opened the door of his truck for her.

"Let me guess. A rave. I'm going to watch you get stoned in some backroom while you play Pink Floyd albums backwards."

Peyton had come to deal with Drew's problem by joking about it, just like Drew did. They pretended the track marks on his arms were just wittily shaped tattoos and the bags under his eyes were from the alcohol of course. They both knew it should be no laughing matter. It was highly fucked up, but so was the president of a well to do record company dating a drug addict who fronted a middle of the road band. It didn't matter though. Drew, like Peyton, was all for avoidance.

"Nice guess, but no. No raves tonight," Drew said, flashing her a crooked smile, "In fact, I'm gonna try and stay sober just for you."

"I feel honored."

"I'd wait until I actually accomplish it before you feel honored."

He drove her to a place on the edge of town, one she'd been to before with Nathan when they were sixteen. The drive-in movie theater. Suddenly, his whole costume made sense.

"So do you always dress up for dates?" Peyton said, quirking her eyebrow as he spread a blanket out on top of his car. 

"No. I just figured you'd be a little freaked out by the whole first date thing. You seem like you haven't dated since high school." 

"Aww, you're Drew, the crack addict who cares…"

"Dude, that was harsh."

"You were harsh!" Peyton retorted, sounding very much like a child. Their eyes met and the absurdity of the situation became apparent, causing a spout of giggles to erupt from both of them.

After they had finally settled down, Drew had already laid out the blanket and hopped on top of the car. He patted the space next to him and Peyton soon joined him.

The movie playing was a romantic comedy with badly timed humor and patchy back story, but it made it all the more better. Peyton and Drew's sarcasm more than made up for it. They held hands much through the second half of the movie, and Drew's low rumble of a voice when he whispered set goose bumps up Peyton's arm. Afterwards, Drew took her home, and they parted with a chase kiss on the cheek. Peyton slipped inside and proceeded to spill all about her time, ignoring Brooke's reluctant enthusiasm. When it was finally time for Brooke to get to bed, Peyton laid back on her bed, replaying the night.

It was in all honesty, the perfect date.

* * *

The dates only got better after that. It was as if Drew's imagination never ceased. He was always taking her someplace new, one that was romantic and yet practical. The dates were so good, that she had even learned to live with Drew's frequent trips to the bathroom and the occasional glazed over eyes that returned from the restroom. Strange as it was to say, it didn't matter. Even when he was high, he was still Drew. It was like the drugs didn't even affect him. As much as it scared Peyton deep down, she couldn't help but accept it. She was by nature good at avoiding confrontation, better at hiding her fears than facing them. She feared for Drew's health, but she didn't want the relationship to end over some pointless intervention. She knew that someone like Drew would only ever quit doing drugs if he wanted to. No one else would change that.

"Can I be honest with you?" Peyton asked, sipping her slurpee. They were on their fifth date, this one consisting of dinner on the boardwalk. 

"I thought we were being honest with each other already?" 

"Humor me, Drew," Peyton said in a low voice.

"Go for it, Ms. Sawyer."

"Well it's just…I've had a really amazing time these past few weeks…"

"And…"

"Well I'm just surprised you don't have a girlfriend already."

"Drug use usually turns a girl off. Apparently they have this thing called common sense…"

"Hey! You can be extremely persistent when you want to be."

"I guess that's the key," Drew shrugged, "I don't feel like being persistent a lot."

"Oh," Peyton blushed, "Well I'm flattered then."

"For the record," Drew said, dusting some of the dirt off his shoes with the back of his sleeve, "I've had a lot of fun lately too."

"As much fun as we've had lately, I still feel like we don't know a whole lot about each other."

"I'm a Pisces. Two brothers, one sister. Lived in New York City until I was sixteen, then we moved here. Mom's a book store owner. Dad's an ex marine turned prison guard."

"I already knew all that. I meant something…deeper."

"Well you go first," Drew said.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Seeing as I'm the more open one, I think you should start. Tell me something you've been keeping from me."

"My true love married someone else, and I'm still not over it."

"Whoa," Drew said, "When you said deep I thought you meant 'when I was a kid, I wanted to be a bird so I could fly.'"

"Oh," Peyton said, covering her face with her hands, "Well then let's just pretend I never said that."

"Highly unlikely," Drew said, pulling her hands away from her face, "Tell me about it."

"What?" 

"Tell me about him…or her."

"Him," Peyton said firmly, "His name is Lucas Scott…"

And Peyton told him everything. From the first moment they locked eyes to the moment they shared in the hospital not long ago. It was a seven and a half year, still incomplete love story.

"Wow."

"Sometimes I feel like that's…it. What's the point of hoping for more?"

At this, Drew let out a laugh.

"What?" Peyton asked, clearly not amused.

"I'm sorry but it's just…you can't honestly think that, right?"

"Why not?"

"Because just because you lose your true love, it doesn't mean life is over. There is so much more to life than love. And there's more to dating than that fluffy shit you call true love."

"Sure there is," Peyton said dryly, rolling her eyes.

"Seriously Peyton, if you just open your eyes, you might find something worthwhile. Don't give up yet."

"I haven't," Peyton smiled, nudging his shoulder purposefully. "Your turn to share something."

Drew spared her a glance, seemingly contemplating on what to say.

"I've only been doing heroin for a few months," Drew admitted.

"Really?" 

"Yep. It started after we finished the last album. I did it on a dare."

"A dare?"

"I never claimed to be mature," Drew grinned, before scratching the back of his head. 

"Do you ever regret it?"

"Sometimes it sucks to think about it. You spend your whole life talking about how you want to fight the power and writing music about being independent and rising against society's shackles and then you find yourself dependent on this shit."

"Kind of funny," Peyton admitted.

"The irony's never been lost on me. But to answer your question, I never regret anything I do." 

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I'm a big fan of the whole fate thing. There's a predetermined course and we're all just pawns in the Higher Power's chess game. I can't regret something I had no chance of changing."

"Sounds like a copout for someone who's too afraid to man up to his decisions in life."

"I knew there was a reason I liked you," Drew laughed. 

"You ever think about quitting?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Uh huh," Peyton nodded.

"I promised my mother I'd be clean by her birthday."

"Your mother knows you do heroin?"

"No point in lying to her. Last thing I want is for her to find out from someone else when they find me dead, covered in vomit in some sleazy motel room."

"So then you're gonna quit?"

"Maybe," Drew shrugged.

"Good."

"I kind of miss the days when getting stoned off alcohol and pot was enough."

"That's the wrong reason for quitting, but I'll take it."

"You gonna stick around through all the shit to come?" Drew asked seriously, "Because I won't blame you if you bail now."

"I got nowhere to go," Peyton shrugged, "I've spent my whole life depending on other people to get me through things. It's about time I return the favor."

"Squaring your karma?"

"Something like that."

* * *

Things you need to know after finishing this chapter:

1) In general, I do not endorse drug use especially the hardcore stuff like heroin which will more likely than not kill you within 5 years of you starting it.

2) My goal is not to glorify drug use, and the next chapter will indeed prove that. If you thought this was going to be all happy times and easy recovery CLEARLY you haven't realized my love of angst (and realistic writing).

3) I don't know how I feel about this chapter. Drew is a necessary character and I felt that I just couldn't get him right. –sigh— I'm guessing that's what you get when you decide to bring in a drug addict…lol.


	11. Chapter 11: Life

Chapter Eleven: Life

A/N: Sorry this was late. My schoolwork caught up with me. But! I did manage to get this done. It's a really long ass chapter, but all of it is important. It's another one of those turning points. Thanks to Ellie for the beta, 6,000 plus words can be deadly for a beta…

Anyways…go enjoy! And review if at all possible. They keep me writing. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill…if I did, it'd be written much better. :P

Chapter Eleven: Life

Most people when asked to draw life as if it were a shape would draw a straight line. On the line, they would place profound and grandstanding events sporadically as if the line represented a person's path through life. The straight journey from point A to point B.

Life is not a line. Life is a circle, beginning with birth and ending with death, which in turn is really just birth into a new life. Whether you believe in reincarnation or heaven or nothingness, you believe in something waiting for you when you die. Something that will require you to start all over again, or possibly just fade away.

But technically, aren't we speaking in binary oppositions when it's not necessary? Every ending is really just a beginning, and really that's what complicates life.

It's a cycle that can't be broken.

* * *

It's an old Italian superstition that children should not wear black before the age of three. Strange as it was to be taken entirely seriously, it made some sense. Black was a dark, morbid color. It was depressing to look upon anyone garbed in black. There was a sense of grief and loss which attached itself to the color. Seeing as children were the epitome of innocence and life, it would be a total loss to put them in black.

Peyton Sawyer wasn't Italian. She wasn't superstitious either. She did however, believe in karma and irony, and gazing down at the small infant wrapped in the black scarf she had been wearing earlier, she realized that grief was the one trait she was going to try her hardest not to pass on to her next generation.

_

* * *

_

9 months ago

"I'm going away for a couple months."

Peyton could only stare at him, her breathing not yet returned to normal. Their naked bodies were covered in a thin sheet of sweat, post coital bliss interrupted by the strangely out of place admission.

"God Drew you're terrible at pillow talk," Peyton managed to breath out, a smirk forming on her face.

"I'm sorry," he laughed, "It's just…Rehab. I check in this Saturday."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I didn't know how to tell you."

"So you decided after sex was the best way to go," Peyton mused, her eyebrow quirked.

"Well yeah," Drew admitted, "I figured you be too strung out on a Drew-high that you wouldn't realize I was leaving you."

"A Drew high? Is that what we're calling it?"

"That's what I always call it."

"And for the record, people always leave, Drew, but you're coming back."

"I'm coming back," Drew nodded seriously, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Peyton sighed, curling closer to his side, nose grazing his neck, "When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow morning," Drew said, and Peyton could feel his smirk against the top of her head.

"Oh you little shit…"

* * *

Peyton heard the tires screech as they rolled up in front of Wilmington's Drug Treatment Center. Peyton watched as Drew let the cigarette just hang carelessly from his lips, his hands tapping nervously against the side door. He hadn't spoken at all this morning. In fact, Peyton had woken up to the site of his back hunched over the side of the bed, injecting himself with poison for what would be hopefully the last time. His eyes had grown cold, fearful almost. It was one thing to tell yourself you could always quit. It was another thing to actually have to face the issue.

She had made him scrambled eggs and toast, his favorite. She knew her way around his apartment by now. Three months of dating and she already felt his place becoming like a second home to her. He had eaten bits and pieces of the meal in silence while Peyton had packed his bag for him. She had stuffed it full of books and CDs and anything she could think of to keep him busy. She knew though that it wouldn't make a difference. A Led Zeppelin album wasn't going to keep him from wanting to shoot up.

Still, the gesture touched him, and he couldn't help but cup her cheek and smile when she handed it to him.

They stared at each other now, the sounds of Jake Jagielski tapering off as Peyton lowered the radio.

"So," Peyton said breaking the silence. Drew put his finger to her lips, quieting any more sound that could have escaped. There were no words to be scripted for an occasion like this. And though Peyton wanted to try, wanted to put herself out there, tell him she'd be there for him, that she cared for him, he wouldn't let her. Maybe he knew it all already or maybe he feared it would all be a lie from her.

"I'll see you soon," Drew said simply, giving her a grin that spoke louder than any kiss goodbye could.

And he slipped out the car without another word, not waiting for her to confirm his assessment, no glance over his shoulder to look upon her again.

* * *

The rule was three months in rehab. The first two were completely without contact from the outside world. No phone calls. No visitations. No letters. Peyton wondered if it was harder on her than it was on him. Not that she would trade places, but still, the anxiety she felt worrying about him trumped most of the feelings she could recall from her recent history.

Then again, she had blocked out her entire existence with one, Lucas Scott. And she knew there had been some intense feelings back then.

She had been thinking of Lucas lately. Not in the nostalgic, 'oh I miss him' way (though she'd always miss him). It was more about the whole idea of planning a future with someone. She and Lucas had planned their futures carefully. He'd go to college. She'd stay as an intern until he graduated. Then they'd move in together either in LA or Tree Hill. They'd get married once they were settled into their careers and then they'd have their 2.5 kids.

But with his marriage proposal at the tender age of 19, Lucas had thrown a wrench in that plan, skipping steps without a second thought. For Peyton, it had jostled her off course. The plan had been changed, and Peyton hated change. In the past, all it had done was made her life miserable. So she had said no, and the plans didn't change, they shattered and burned into embers of what once was a beautiful life.

With Drew, there was no plan. And thank God for that because at this rate, she was beginning to think they were working backwards anyway.

"So! Are you excited?" Brooke asked as she barreled into the room where Peyton was curled on her bed. She had taken to extreme bouts of nausea, ones that were so bad that after vomiting for 20 minutes, she was left with a migraine for hours afterwards.

She knew the cause of her nausea. It had stared her blankly in the face when she changed her calendar from December to January two weeks after she should have and saw December 28th circled in red pen three times. That week had come and gone without the significant event. And last she recalled that "event" hadn't visited in November either.

"Yeah, of course." Peyton managed as much of a smile as she could. Today was her first visitation day with Drew, and she had been cursing internally exactly whether or not she should tell him her fears.

"Well you totally look excited," Brooke said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, "Want to tell me why you're so apathetic?"

"I'm still sick."

"Stomach flu? Still?"

"I think it's something worse…"

"Oh my God. I hope it's not that Ebola virus or something. Hey, when we went out last week you didn't eat seafood, did you?"

"No. Brooke…"

"Yeah?"

"It's not that," Peyton said uncertainly. Part of her was still reluctant to give anything away. She had been keeping this secret close to her, one of the few things she had managed to hide away from everyone else in her life. But as much as she loved her secrets, she needed Brooke.

"Well of course it's probably not Ebola. You know how rare that stuff is?"

"No I mean it's not a stomach virus."

"Well then what the hell is it?" Brooke said clearly frustrated. Then her eyes lit up, as if recognizing was right in front of her this whole time. "No freaking way."

"Brooke."

"You're pregnant!"

"Brooke…"

"You're pregnant with that stupid drug addict's baby!"

"He's not a stupid drug addict," Peyton hissed, "God, Brooke, this is why I didn't want to tell you…"

"How long were you going to keep me in the dark?"

"I didn't want to tell you until I was sure."

"And you're sure now…"

"Two positive pregnancy tests says yes."

"Two tests?!"

"Brooke…"

"No! No more 'Brooke' from you! I can't believe you got yourself pregnant. God, he's a drug addict Peyton! You should have been using protection! Lord knows what else you've picked up from him--"

"We did use protection," Peyton chimed in, "Every single time. And I was on the pill too."

"Well that makes it all better," Brooke glared, "Doesn't make that baby go away."

"I don't want this baby to go away," Peyton blurted out. She didn't realize that she meant those words until they had escaped her lips. Brooke's eyes snapped to meet Peyton's.

"You're selfish," Brooke said flatly.

"Excuse me," Peyton hissed, "How is me wanting to keep my baby selfish?"

"Did you even think what this is going to do to Drew?"

"Oh so now you care about, Drew, huh?"

"Yes! Your boyfriend is a recovering heroin addict, not even two months into rehab. His body is just getting used to being without that shit. The first rule of addiction is to reduce stress. That's why they don't allow any contact with the outside world. Now you're going to dump this baby news on him. The pressure's going to build, and who knows if he's strong enough to deal with that? My God I've watched Owen for three years now. One bad day at work and his fingers twitch for the stuff…"

"Brooke…"

"No, Peyton, this is going to drag both of you down, and I don't—" Brooke broke off, the tears that had been building in her eyes catching up to her voice, "I don't think I can handle picking up the pieces to this one."

"I need you," Peyton whispered, her voice raw with emotion, "You need to tell me this is going to be okay."

"It's not going to be okay," Brooke said quietly, "Not in the least. But you need to tell Drew about this while he's still in rehab so they can help him cope with it."

"You're right," Peyton said, glancing at her clock. Her visitation was in an hour and she needed to get going. Standing up and straightening her clothing, suddenly she felt another bout of morning sickness wash over. She clapped her hand over her mouth and rushed to the bathroom. Brooke was right behind her and soon she was gathering her blonde curls behind her.

This had been what she needed. Brooke beside her, reassuring her it was going to be okay even if they both knew it was all a lie. Brooke rubbed her back with her free hand, whispering encouraging words about it all being over soon. But the words struck a chord.

This wasn't going to be over soon. And at that thought the heaves stopped and turned to violent sobs. She collapsed to her knees, Brooke tumbling down with her, pulling her back against her chest.

* * *

The visitation room for Wilmington's Drug Treatment Center was smaller than she imagined; 6 ft by 6ft with cream colored walls. Two comfortable chairs were positioned across each other at a simple table, and Peyton found herself squirming in the one closest to the door she had entered through. It had been ten minutes since they let her in here, and she'd yet to see Drew.

As if answering her thoughts the door on the other side opened up, and Drew slipped in. Their eyes met instantly. Both of them managed a smile, but neither grin was as bright as it might have been at one time. Peyton scanned his face. He looked…bad. Well, not bad, she corrected. He looked tired. There were circles underneath his eyes and his skin looked more off color than ever. It was as if rehab had been more damaging to him than the heroin had been. Peyton felt nauseous, this time not from the morning sickness. Drew was struggling, just like Brooke had warned, to break his addiction, and the stress she was about to inflict on him was just going to make this worse. She considered briefly keeping the pregnancy to herself, but then that would be more selfish than telling him now.

"Hey you," he said, his smile brightening as the minutes passed together.

"Hi," she said meekly, "You look like shit." Her statement was blunt and to the point, stripped of all pretenses, just how Drew liked it.

"Yeah," Drew nodded folding his arms on the table, his muscles flinching at the cold touch of the metal tabletop. Peyton couldn't help but truly grin seeing the track marks on his arm all but vanished, nothing but dull echoes on freckled skin.

"They're nearly gone though," Peyton whispered, placing her finger against the old marks. Drew placed his hands over hers, watching her with curious eyes. They exchanged another brief smile, before a frown flitted across Peyton's face as she spotted a new mark on the back of Drew's hand.

"IV marks?"

"For the methadone," Drew said, "It's what they use to help you off heroin." His voice barely contained his bitterness, the emotion seemingly out of place.

"But they're fading too…" Peyton trailed off, stroking the marks absentmindedly.

"I know," Drew whispered, shifting forward in his seat so he could take hold of both Peyton's hands. "I have to tell you something."

"So do I," Peyton admitted.

"I think you should go first."

"No really, you go first," Peyton said, trying to by herself time to think just exactly how she was going to break the news to him.

"Believe me when I say, I need to hear what you have to say first. Tell me it's good news at least…"

"Umm it could be. It depends," Peyton scratched her head, "What about yours?"

"Kind of the same," Drew said grimly.

"Oh."

A few seconds passed. "You gonna tell me or not, Sawyer?"

"I'm thinking how to tell you this…"

"Remember how I like my news. Honest and to the point."

Peyton stared at him, his eyes hollow and eager as if waiting for the words to come from her. His face was already sullen as if he'd already hear the news.

"I'm pregnant," she said, and she waited for the world to fall.

Drew stared at her blankly, his face falling, if possible, more so than it already had fallen. He took a deep shaky breath before he responded,

"I'm dying."

* * *

"How'd it go?" Brooke asked, her face trying to be happy, but failing miserably.

Peyton didn't even try. There wasn't going to be any secrets between them anymore. And even if there was, this would be the one she would never be able to keep. The misery, the agony and the irony of it all were boiling underneath Peyton's already fragile surface.

"I told him."

"And?"

"He's dying," Peyton said, before letting out mirthless chuckle, slamming her purse down on the counter.

"What?" Brooke said slowly.

"The fucking rehab clinic screwed up," Peyton yelled, the curses falling from her lips catching Brooke off guard. Peyton never swore. "Apparently, Drew wasn't as addicted to heroin as they predicted. They gave him more methadone than his body could handle. Strike one!" Peyton pulled the fridge door open viciously, grabbing at a beer before remembering she was a pregnant and settling for the orange juice instead, "When he complained that the withdrawals were getting worse, they didn't think twice, assuming he was lying just to get them to ease up on him. Strike two!" She slammed the fridge door shut. "Then they kept him on the methadone too long, didn't even notice that it was attacking his liver at twice the rate the heroin was. It sent him into acute liver failure. Strike three!"

"How long?" Brooke whispered.

"Seven months if he's lucky…"

"And you're…"

"Two months pregnant? Yeah just about. Great fucking timing, huh?" Peyton let out a sarcastic laugh.

"Peyton, I'm so sorry."

"No you're not," Peyton said, "It's what you wanted, isn't it? Him out of my life. Hell, even if you didn't want that, you sure as hell didn't think it would be good for him to be around the baby. Well thank God, he probably won't even get to see it, huh? It's just what everyone wanted. I'm not allowed to be happy. No! Everyone I love has to leave. It's the fucking rule, isn't it? The ones who want to stay, die, and the ones who don't walk out the door like it's nothing."

"You're being selfish again," Brooke said, cutting the tirade off, "The man's dying and you're thinking of what it'll do to you..."

"But don't you see Brooke!" Peyton's voice was almost frantic at this point, "He's the lucky one! He gets to leave, and I'm the one who's going to have to live without him, without his help. How am I supposed to raise a child on my own? I can hardly take care of myself."

"I'll be here. I'm always here, and I don't ever plan on leaving," Brooke said simply.

"This isn't your responsibility," Peyton said, her voice much quieter than it had been since she entered the house.

"No, but that doesn't mean I can't help you with it," Brooke said tentatively touching Peyton's shoulder, "Besides I always wanted a baby. I just didn't want the stretch marks."

Peyton let out a small laugh even if she didn't want to, "What am I gonna do?"

"Survive," Brooke said, "It's what you do best."

* * *

And for the next seven months, that's just what Peyton did. Survived.

Drew was let out of the rehab earlier than most patients, but that was for a reason. Peyton had all but threatened to sue the life out of them, pointing out that not only were they going to be responsible for a man's death, the man in question was a famous musician. That sort of press would virtually tear apart the place. The hospital had wanted to keep Drew under their watch, but Peyton wanted him to die at home.

Home had become Brooke and Peyton's beach house. Drew had been reluctant to move in there, knowing that Brooke have never approved of him in the first place, but then Brooke had come to him and they had reached a common ground. They both loved Peyton. They both didn't want her worrying any more than she needed to. Stress wasn't good for pregnant women, and it was stressful enough that her husband was dying.

Yes, her husband. She was Mrs. Drew Mitchell. Never in a million years had she imagined herself here, a pregnant and soon to be widow. She always imagined the next time she was proposed to it would be something romantic. There would be a grand speech just like the one Lucas had given her. There would be flowers and candles and all tears of joy and smiles. And her wedding would be a grand affair filled with everyone she knew. More smiles. More tears of joy.

But her engagement had happened during one of her routine checkups, 16 weeks. Drew had been feeling up to coming with her, and he held her hand while they spread the cold gel over her belly. They watched together as their child appeared on screen, and Drew leaned over her to get a better look. It was as if he realized this might be the closest he ever got to seeing his child moving and breathing. A fuzzy sonogram. He glanced over at her and the words just sort of tumbled out of his mouth. "Will you marry me?"

She had meant to say no. It was ridiculous. He was dying after all, and there was no need to get married, but seeing the look in his eyes, pleading and…happy. Something he rarely managed to maintain lately as the pain of his ordeal began to catch up with him. The word "yes" just slipped off her tongue, and she clutched him close to her.

There wedding wasn't really a wedding. Just them and Owen and Brooke and the Justice of the Peace at the courthouse. No dresses (despite Brooke's protest). No flowers. Just signing of certificates and the strange sudden connection to the man standing with her, his balance unsteady and his eyes tired.

She loved him. That was all she was sure of anymore. She loved him, and she would love him until the day he died. Sure, it was cheating. He'd be dead in a few months, but there were very few things Peyton could be certain about. Loving Drew until he died was it.

And there were moments, few and fleeting, where they felt like a real married couple. It was those times when they sat on the back porch and watched the tide roll in, indulging in junk food. Drew would whisper a lullaby against her ever-expanding stomach. They could forget that he was dying and she would be all alone with their child.

She couldn't forget though as his eyes grew dimmer. Every day closer to their child's birth was a day Drew got worse. He got weaker and weaker until one day he couldn't even manage to get out of bed. That day was one week ago.

Today Peyton stood nine months pregnant, one week overdue and with a husband expected to slip away any day now. It was a race against the clock with Peyton hoping and praying that he'd hold on just long enough to meet his child.

Peyton stared down at the cell phone vibrating against her purse. She rolled her eyes when she spotted the number. This would be the fifth call in five minutes, all of which had gone unanswered. Finally, Peyton gave in and placed the phone to her ear.

"Yeah."

"Don't you "yeah" me, P. Sawyer! Where the hell are you? I thought some crazy woman kidnapped you so she could steal your baby and-"

"I'm at the grocery store," Peyton laughed, "So unless these jars of pickles want to attack me…"

"Why the hell are you at the grocery store? You just went yesterday."

"We're out of pickles."

"I could have gotten them for you."

"I wanted to go."

"It's not good for you to be out. Pregnant women need their rest, and you're always complaining about your feet being sore."

"Exercise is good for me and the baby. It might mean it gets its ass out quicker."

Brooke paused, carefully considering her words. "You can't force this, Peyton. It's not healthy for either of you. Any of you…"

"Whatever," Peyton muttered, pushing the cart forward before her eyes froze open in shock, "Oh shit…"

"What is it?"

"My water just broke."

* * *

Pain, Peyton was used to, but only emotional pain. Sure there had been physical pain sometimes, a broken ankle in cheer camp, a few slaps courtesy of Brooke, but nothing quite like this. Even with the meds, she could still feel the pain. Tears rolling down her face, her hair mussed, and lip swollen from being bitten, she looked like hell had visited her. Brooke's arm was behind her pushing her forward, her other hand clutching hers tightly. She didn't even have time to notice how silly Brooke had looked in the blue hospital gown.

"Come on, P. Sawyer. They said one more push…"

"Fuck them!" Peyton yelled, "Fuck them all…I'm going to kill Drew when I get out of here…"

"Peyton…"

"And then I'm going to go find Lucas and kill him!"

"Lucas?"

"That asshole wanted me to pop out five of these! What the hell was he possibly thinking?"

"He wanted five kids?" Brooke asked, caught off guard by the admission.

"Yeah well…anything to hurt me it seems. Jack ass!"

"You really never stop thinking of him, huh," Brooke muttered and all the response Peyton managed to muster was a sharp grasp of her hand. Then, Peyton lurched forward, the final push. The shrill cry of a baby filled the room.

"There you go, Ms. Sawyer," the doctor cheered. He held up the baby. It was small and red, covered in slickness. "It's a girl."

"A girl!" Brooke shrieked jumping up and down, "I knew it! I knew it!"

"Would you like your partner to cut the cord?" the nurse asked Peyton.

Peyton was so out of it, she didn't realize the meaning behind that. "Brooke…do you want to do it?"

"Yes!" Brooke squealed, "Hand over my goddaughter." Brooke disappeared out of sight, and Peyton realized that her tears were still falling.

She had a daughter, the daughter who had haunted her dreams for years. The little girl who would have curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes and run around the back yard, tiny feet leaving marks in the sand that washed away with the tide. A girl who laughed and smiled and would be everything Peyton ever wanted from life. Someone who would love her just as much as she loved them. A child created in love.

A child who was not Lucas Scott's.

She let out a small sob at the realization, but it flittered as soon as Brooke plopped the small child in her arms unannounced. Peyton flinched before locking eyes with the tiny newborn struggling to open her eyes. It was a beautiful and terrifying sight. It was the closest thing she'd ever seen to perfection. She bent down and pressed her lips to the child's forehead. The child was warm and solid…and real.

More real than Sam Elizabeth had ever been.

"Do you have a name for her?" the nurse asked.

"Margaret Drew Sawyer," Peyton answered without looking up from the child.

* * *

It was at a crucial time like this that Peyton thanked Lucas with all her heart for teaching her how to be strong. It was something he had done involuntarily, but it came with the territory of breaking her heart so many times. Along the way, he had taught her how to stay so stoic in situations that would otherwise tear another person apart.

Most people would cry right now, seeing this sight before Peyton. Drew was literally knocking at death's door. Whether it would be minutes or days, Peyton didn't know. His eyes had lost all the light they had once held, now shadowed by dark rings, lurking and preying on what was left of him. The orbs that were once a bright cerulean blue had faded to grey, empty and hollow. His complexion was pallid, dimming even with the bright light of the beach view shining over him from the drawn curtains. There was a shine to his face, cast by the sweat glimmering beneath the bead of his brow. His lips were chapped and brittle, pale pink and his whitened tongue darted to them frequently trying to ease the dryness.

She perched at his bedside, refusing to take her eyes off of him, no matter how heartbreaking and scary the sight was. He met her gaze as if willing her to look away, not wanting these visions to haunt her after he left. But then, Peyton had seen death so many times before; this was just another name to add to her list.

"Hey," she said, her voice even and refusing to whisper.

He must have noticed because he let out a bark of a laugh, the bit of Drew that she'd always remember present. "Hey."

"There's someone I want you to meet," Peyton said, stroking the clammy skin of his forehead.

"Yeah?" Drew grinned, the first smile he had managed in days.

"I wanted to wait until you were totally awake."

"Okay," he nodded.

Peyton turned to the doorway where Brooke was waiting, bundle in hand. She gestured for her to bring the baby forward and soon, the child was nestled in Peyton's arms. Brooke silently exited the room, and Drew pulled himself up so he could peak at their child.

"This is our daughter," Peyton said proudly, "Margaret Drew Sawyer."

Drew just stared at the baby, awe washing over his face. Peyton maneuvered his arms so that they were in the proper position and then carefully placed their child within them. He tensed at first, but eased eventually seeing the child lull to sleep next to his heartbeat.

His eyes were fixed on little Margaret, and on nothing else. He didn't speak, and Peyton didn't dare push him to, knowing that this was probably the most heartbreaking thing for both of them. She pushed her tears back. The bittersweet feeling of the whole moment hung over her like a thick fog. She tried to busy herself with the camera she found in the bottom drawer of the dresser, taking as many pictures as possible, knowing this may be the only time that she'd ever see Margaret and Drew in the same room.

"You know how I tell you…all the time about…regrets-" Drew said breaking the tranquil silence that had settled over them.

"You mean about how you don't have any?" Peyton asked wryly in between photos.

"Right now, I'm thinking I have a couple," Drew whispered, a few stray tears escaping his eyes.

Peyton dropped the camera to her side. "I really don't know what to say, Drew."

"There's nothing you can say," Drew shrugged, slightly, "Karma's a bitch."

"Yeah," Peyton admitted.

"Do you think we could get a picture of all three of us?" Drew asked.

"Sure," Peyton smiled, as she leaned in and began clicking a few photos. Finally when she drew back, the baby began to fuss.

"Looks like it's feeding time," Peyton sighed.

"Yeah," Drew grinned, "Well don't mind me…"

"She's being bottle fed," Peyton said, rolling her eyes, "I'll just call Brooke in to do it. She's been fighting me for a chance to all day."

Peyton turned and called for Brooke, and she was there in half a second, gently removing the baby from Drew's arms. She patted Peyton on the shoulder, before walking out of the room and shutting the door, refusing to look at Drew the whole time.

"You know," Drew said, "she never looks at me."

"Who? Brooke?"

"Yeah," Drew managed, "She's been taking care of me this whole time while you were in the hospital, but not one look from her."

Peyton had been in the hospital for three days after Margaret was born. It was just a precaution but it had come at the worst time. Drew took an immediate turn for the worse. Haley and Karen had taken to staying at the hospital with Peyton while Brooke stayed home taking care of Drew. It was something, one of the many things actually, for which Peyton would be eternally grateful for.

"She's not good with…"

"Death?" Drew finished for her, "Who is, Peyton?"

Peyton shrugged. Drew picked up the camera and began, flipping through pictures. His eyes seemed to settle on one, his brow furrowing.

"What?" Peyton asked gently. She glanced over his shoulder and saw him settled on the picture of the three of them. The one where he was looking down at Margaret and Peyton was looking at him, a genuine smile on her face.

"Bury me with this picture," he said, his face stone serious like it never had been before.

Peyton didn't know what to say so she opted for a nod.

At week's end, she kept her promise.

_

* * *

_

Andrew "Drew" Christopher Mitchell

_Beloved Husband and Father_

_January 12__th__ 1983 – July 3__rd__ 2009_

"_Dying is easy; it's living that's the real challenge"_

Babies shouldn't be dressed in black, and a cynic looking down at her with no real knowledge of the situation would have guessed that this was just Peyton being Peyton and wanting her kid to be different. But really, this was Peyton adhering to the rules. Black is the color of mourning and even if her baby girl didn't know it, they were both in mourning.

All of the mourners had left already, piled into the limos and Cadillacs and headed back to Brooke's house for the standard after funeral luncheon. Brooke had offered to say with Peyton, but then with one look, she realized what Peyton really needed was someone to go play hostess while Peyton gathered her strength.

She never expected to love him, but she had, in a strange way. It wasn't true love, or forever love, or fairy tale love. It wasn't the stuff rainbows and unicorns were made of and if Drew had ever heard her comparing it to that, he'd come back from the dead to slap her on the shoulder. What they had was just love. Simple.

She felt the tears start to fall, and she let them wash away all the fear and anxiety that exited at the thought of what lay ahead. She knew she would survive this. For Margaret, she would learn to keep moving forward. She felt a warm breeze flutter through the graveyard. A heart shaped leaf twirled through the cemetery finally landing on a grave twenty or so feet away, the word SCOTT standing out clearly.

"You're right leaf of destiny," Peyton smirked, "I've been through much worse and lived to tell about it."

_

* * *

_

Dear Lucas,

_Today, Karen and I sat down with Nathan and Haley and had a meeting about whether or not we should tell you about Peyton. The truth is that you have been reluctant to mention the blonde's name. Haley has been doing her best to keep you in the dark, simply for the reason that no one knows what's the best way to approach this subject. Today we voted 3-1 not to say anything. To commit an error by omission. They all feel that you have enough going on in your life right now that you don't need any more to worry about. They think that Peyton's got enough on her plate without having to deal with "Lucas Scott drama" as your mother coined it. _

_But, damn it, isn't that the whole point? You deserve to know this because you love her Lucas. You love her more than anyone in this world. You are her protector and her savior and you should be here. She needs you, and I think you need her too. _

_So I don't care what they say. I need to tell you this. A year ago Peyton started dating a heroin addict named Andrew Mitchell. Just around the time Drew checked into rehab, Peyton found out she was pregnant. Four months ago, she married him. Two weeks ago, Peyton gave birth to a little girl, Margaret Drew Sawyer, 6lbs 4 oz. Bright blue eyes and curly blonde hair. A week later, Drew died from complications from his drug treatment. _

_She loved him, Lucas, and she's going to miss him. But what she needs is you. So get your ass back home. Stop being an idiot. _

_With all Peyton's love,_

_Brooke_

Brooke stared at the letter in her hands, before tearing it to shreds. She had made a promise to all of them, and she knew she had to honor it. That didn't mean she couldn't write all of this down. Letters unsent, they were hers and Lucas' thing.

* * *

If there was one thing Lucas Scott hated about being a teacher, it was having to deal with kids in study hall. He guessed he should probably be relieved with it. After all, study hall was the only real break he got, and he usually used it to grade papers. However, there were days when he walked into the room and just knew that it was going to be an hour and fifteen minutes of constant chattering from his students with no way for him to get any work done. Today was one of those days, and what made it all the more upsetting was the disappointed looks on all the kids face, the hushed whispers which led to even more frowns.

"All right, what's going on?" he finally asked, putting down his newspaper.

All of their heads snapped to him. It was rare for him to open his mouth in study hall.

"Drew Mitchell died," a petite girl in the back row answered.

"Is he a student here?" Lucas asked, his eyebrows furrowed. When the class let out a collective laugh, he realized that his age was starting to catch up with him.

"He's from the band, Sober," this time one of the cheerleaders spoke up.

Lucas's ears perked up, "I have heard of them."

Of course he had. Peyton's company had signed them, and as much as he'd love to deny it, he still kept tabs on her company's success.

"The guy was a newlywed," the same girl offered, "and they said his wife just gave birth to a baby girl. They said he was trying to get off heroin and the doctors screwed up."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah fucking doctors man…" a guy in the front row offered.

"Watch the language," Lucas said as if it was instinct. The class went back to their conversation and Lucas turned back to his paper. The news was unsettling and he wasn't sure why.

He had dreams lately, most of them to the tune of Sober songs. Dreams about Peyton and…Sam.

He shook his head. It was all just a big coincidence.

Like always, when the pieces lay out in front of Lucas, he never managed to put the puzzle together.


	12. Chapter 12: Pearl

A/N: Sorry this took so long. I kind of got obsessed with Twilight and have been working on a Jacob/Bella oneshot around the clock...but I didn't forget you guys. With a little help from youtube and all it's fantastic Leyton videos, I was able to regain my inspiration. This chapter isn't beta'ed because I'm too impatient to get it done.

Next chapter will be out in 1-2 weeks. Enjoy and as always, review if you can :)

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH.

Chapter Twelve: Pearl

When asked to choose between a pearl and a diamond, the obvious answer should be to choose a pearl. It's not a matter of taste. Pearls are born. Diamonds are found. Diamonds can be chipped out of caves. True, genuine pearls cannot be synthesized. They must be found in a living shelled mollusk. They are, in a sense, alive.

Mollusks work to form pearls over decades. Not all will be successful. In the past, pearl hunters would have to manually check every mollusk for a pearl. If they found a pearl, it was considered great luck. Pearls are special and unique and ones that haven't been tampered by humans are a rare commodity.

So you see, diamonds show wealth. Pearls show victory.

--

5 years later

They say adjusting to being a parent doesn't happen over night. It's a gradual process, like going to college or falling in love. For Peyton, though, nothing was ever gradual. The first time she fell in love it was love at first sight, and she never really went to college. She took a few night courses as an intern but nothing that really needed adjusting. It had always been easy for Peyton to adjust and becoming a mother was no different.

It hadn't been perfect, nor had it been easy. She spent countless nights on the phone with Karen or Haley in tears wondering if coughs were actually coughs and not signs of a deadly viral infection or if she was starting Maggie on solid foods too early or maybe too late. Every move she made had to be weighed carefully. Her fear of losing another person sometimes overshadowed her enjoyment in watching her daughter grow. It was as if the pain Drew's death had caused was lurking in corners of her heart.

Maggie was now five, and she had entered that stage where she was curious about her family. It had started with harmless questions, ones about why they lived with Auntie Brooke or how she got here without a daddy. Peyton had treaded carefully around the subject, until Maggie had finally asked her straight out…

Why don't I have a daddy?

Peyton had bought book after book on the subject. This was one of those crucial moments for any parent, like the sex talk or breaking the news that there's no such thing as Santa Claus. If done incorrectly, it could ruin Maggie for life.

However, what Peyton didn't count on was her daughter's intuition. Maggie was special, and not just in the way that every parent thinks their kid is. Maggie knew what people were thinking before they even opened their mouth to say anything. She had the ability to make connections, no matter how abstract the evidence in front of her was. She was just keen to her surroundings.

When Peyton told Maggie that her father had died just after she had been born, she had absorbed the information. Peyton waited for the question that should follow; the one that every parenting book prepared you for. What is death?

"_Like the leaves?"_

Not exactly what Peyton was expecting and the question threw her off guard.

"_What do you mean, sweetie?" she had asked._

"_Leaves die. And then you put them in a big pile in a corner, but they fly away and don't come back, but new ones take their place on the trees."_

"_Oh."_

"_So daddy was like an old leaf, and I was the new leaf?"_

"_Huh…" Peyton had said absolutely flabbergasted. "Yeah I guess." _

"_Do you think we'll ever see him again?"_

"_No, sweetie," Peyton had whispered, "Not until we become old leaves too."_

"_That's not soon, is it?"_

"_No."_

It had been easy for Maggie to accept her family situation after that. For others, it proved difficult. The other mothers at Maggie's school found it odd that Peyton still lived with Brooke. It wasn't like Peyton didn't have the money for her own house. Peyton was getting more and more successful as the days went, and that wasn't counting the 2 million dollar settlement she had been awarded after Drew's death. She hadn't known it was even in the works, but apparently before he died, Drew had started it in the hopes of securing Maggie's future.

The point was it wasn't about the money. Brooke had become a second parent to Maggie. Every time that Peyton even mentioned the idea of her and Maggie moving out, Brooke's lip would quiver at the thought. Still, Peyton knew that some day soon Owen and Brooke were going to want to settle down and start their own family, and Peyton and Maggie would need to leave. Brooke and Peyton had been both been using each other as crutches. Peyton was afraid to parent alone, and Brooke was afraid to make a commitment.

However, it seemed that Owen was ready to take that step. He basically lived with them in the beach house now. He and Brooke spent most of their nights babysitting Maggie while Peyton worked late. He never once complained. Instead, he let it slip to Peyton one day while Brooke and Maggie were out grocery shopping that being around Maggie reminded him why he had always wanted kids. And when Peyton had pressed whether he was ready for that plunge, he made it clear he only saw the possibility for a family with Brooke Davis.

Even Maggie seemed to think that Owen and Brooke would be getting married soon. It seemed that every Disney princess movie they watched, Maggie would turn to her mother after the prince and princess got married and go "just like Auntie Brooke and Uncle Owen." It seemed the only person who was blissfully unaware of this change was Brooke.

Even when Owen scheduled fancy dinner reservations and showed up with flowers (something he never did), Brooke didn't even realize where the night would be heading. As Peyton and Maggie waved goodbye to them on the front porch, Peyton was brought back to Lucas's proposal. The amazing dinner of which she missed half of, and the hotel room where she watched his heart break in two. The stubborn side of her cursed that if he had just realized she wasn't saying no…the bigger part of her, the one that loved that man with all her heart, just wished she had said yes.

But then she looked down next to her at the head full of blonde curls waving frantically and giggling as if she was sharing an inside joke with herself, and she realized she wouldn't trade this for anything.

"What's so funny?"

"He's gonna ask her to marry him, just like in the movies."

Peyton's eyes widened. "You think so?"

"Mhm," Maggie nodded.

"Well if only Brooke was as observant as you."

"What does observant mean?"

"Margaret Drew Sawyer," Peyton smirked, causing Maggie to furrow her eyebrows.

"My name means observant?"

"No, I was just kidding," Peyton laughed, "Observant means someone who pays close attention to things."

"Like a detective does?"

"Exactly."

Peyton went into the kitchen to prepare dinner. Maggie followed her closely, seemingly mulling over something still. Peyton spared her a glance and frowned.

"What's up kid?"

"Mommy, if my name doesn't mean observant than what does it mean?"

"Margaret?"

"Yeah."

"It means pearl."

"Why'd you name me Margaret?"

"Cause you're my little pearl."

"Why'd did your parents name you Peyton?"

"It was my mother's last name before she married my dad."

"Oh."

"Any more questions?"

"Can we go to the park?"

Peyton laughed, "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

--

Karen Roe had seen a lot of things which made her believe history repeated itself, and sitting at Tree Hill's local park, she saw the same eyes staring back at her that she did twenty years ago. They were the eyes of an overworked and yet overjoyed single mother. Peyton Sawyer had come a long way, and no one was prouder of that than Karen. When she looked at Peyton, she saw a grown woman who had her life together, who had managed to twine work and motherhood together seamlessly. But like Karen, it had come at a price: no romantic love.

Every day she spoke on the phone to Lucas, and every day she held back telling him about Peyton Sawyer, about the child she had bared and the love she had lost and most importantly about the secret smile she held for any time Karen divulged information on how Lucas was doing. Peyton loved her son, probably more than he deserved, but then how could one ever deserve love?

"Aunt Karen!" Maggie shouted as she took off full speed towards her, enveloping her in a hug.

"Hey kiddo," Karen said.

"Where's Lily?"

"With Jamie and Natalie on the basketball court."

Maggie's eyes lit up, "Basketball!" She turned to find her mother approaching them. "Mommy, can I go play basketball with them?"

"Sure," Peyton chuckled, "Just make sure you stay where I can see you, all right?"

"Okay," Maggie said, hugging at Peyton's legs before taking off to find the others.

Peyton let out a long sigh, collapsing on the bench next to Karen. "I swear to God that kid's on speed."

Karen laughed, "No, all kids are like that."

"Really?" Peyton said, "Well that makes me feel a little better. I just wonder how I'm going to be able to keep up with her."

"You will, and you'll always have help too. Brooke and Haley and Nathan and I, we're all here for you whenever you need a break."

"I just don't know how you did it," Peyton sighed, "How you continue to do it…"

"I had Keith," Karen said simply, "And now I have Andy."

"Don't kid yourself, Ms. Roe," Peyton said politely, "It was all you."

Karen smiled, and they both took the silence pause to glance at their children.

"So where's Brooke tonight?" Karen asked, unused to seeing one here without the other.

"Owen took her out to dinner at Le Vanielle."

"Is he proposing?" Karen blurted out.

"Yeah I think we've all come to that conclusion," Peyton chuckled.

"Oh wow…"

"I know. I mean he practically lives at the house at it is. I'm super happy for her," Peyton's face told there was something more to it.

"But?" Karen prodded.

"Don't tell Brooke I said this, but," Peyton paused, "I love Owen and I think that he and Brooke are going to have a beautiful life. I just don't think I fit into that. I think it's time for me to move out."

"Oh Peyton…"

"I've been depending on Brooke since I was nine years old. We've both been leaning on each other, and I just feel like I owe her this. I need to start looking for a new place."

"You don't have to look anywhere," Karen said immediately.

"What?" Peyton asked confused.

"Andy and I have decided to make Australia our permanent residence once Lily starts school again in the fall. She misses her friends there and we just think it's for the best. We'd still come home in the summer, but I want to sell the house, and just invest in a beach condo like the one Brooke has for summers."

Karen paused to take a sip of her coffee, "I've been delaying selling because I don't want to let it go. It's a part of me, you know? Like the café was, only this…this was the first place that truly felt like my home after Lucas was born, and I want it to go to someone who would appreciate it just as much as I do. I want you to have it."

"I don't know what to say," Peyton whispered, the word 'yes' on the tip of her tongue but something held her back, and Karen could see the problem clearly.

"I understand if maybe the memories are too much but—"

"No," Peyton said cutting her off, "It's fine. I just…never imagined living there without…"

"Lucas," Karen said, the words gravely falling from her lips.

"Yeah," Peyton said, forcing a smile, "It's stupid I know. I need to let go."

"Some people can't be let go of. Some people you'll take with you everywhere you go."

"He's happy, right?" Peyton said suddenly, "Cause all I've ever wanted was for him to be happy…"

"Happy is a relative term," Karen said simply, shrugging her shoulders, "He's not miserable, but he could be better. His heart is just not in it anymore."

"In what?"

"Life," Karen smiled, "You were the only person who really made him appreciate it."

"I screwed up so bad," Peyton murmured, her eyes filling with tears she hadn't shed in ages, tears for Lucas Scott.

"No you didn't, Peyton. Your life happened just as it should have. You got to experience more than most people ever did. And you found love again, even if you lost it as quick as it came, it still happened again for you. And that love created something precious."

"Margaret."

"You and Lucas didn't get a happily ever after, but you got something just as good, and that will be enough for you two," Karen said before adding in a quiet whisper, "For now."

"Karen!" Peyton gasped, trying to keep the smile off her face.

"I know as well as everyone else that you and Lucas can only ignore each other's existence for so long. When you two meet again, it'll happen."

"What will?"

"Fireworks."

Karen's grin was contagious.

--

Maggie was currently curled up at one end of the couch while she and Peyton watched the end of Cinderella for the fifth time in two weeks. By this point, Peyton had memorized the words, whispering along with Cinderella as every plot twist, and singing along with the mice.

There was a shift on the couch and suddenly Maggie perked up.

"Auntie Brooke's home," Maggie yawned.

"How do you know?" Peyton asked. Maggie only responded with a shrug.

Sure enough the front door swung open, and Brooke came barreling through resembling a ball of high pitches squees and chants of "oh my God." Peyton resisted the urge to giggle when Brooke launched herself onto the couch in between Peyton and Margaret.

"You okay, B. Davis?" Peyton laughed casually.

"Look at this!" She held her hand out, flashing the large ring in front of them. It was a pearl clustered by diamonds on a beautiful white gold band.

Margaret let out a loud gasp crowding into Brooke's lap so she could see the ring better.

"Oh my God," Peyton exclaimed throwing her arms around Brooke, "Congratulations!"

"You're a princess now, aren't you?" Maggie gaped.

"Oh honey, I was always a princess," Brooke said flipping her hand casually causing Peyton and Margaret to giggle.

"But uncle Owen's your prince charming now, right? He gave you a ring."

"Mhm," Brooke nodded.

"Does that mean you get to have a wedding? With a big poofy dress and flowers and music and confetti…and birds!"

"Birds?" Peyton asked.

"Cinderella had birds."

"Well I'm not planning on having birds," Brooke said, "But I will have a carriage."

"Seriously?" Peyton quirked.

"Oh hell yes," Brooke said, "In fact, I need to call Haley pronto to see where she rented hers."

Peyton watched as Brooke jumped up from the couch and headed to the phone in the kitchen, Margaret close at her heels. It was only then that she noticed Owen still standing at the door, his face beaming with amusement.

"Mr. Brooke Davis," Peyton smirked, "I didn't see you there."

"Oh that with of yours," Owen replied taking a seat next to her.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"Brooke seems super excited."

"I noticed," Owen chuckled, "You know she didn't even actually say yes? Actually I never even got to ask the question. She saw me open the ring box and freaked out."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. She jumped into my lap and started screaming 'I love you' over and over. Then she pulled me back to the car so she could come home and tell you."

"Oh wow."

"Well we both know you're her first spouse."

"How true," Peyton quirked, "But luckily for you, that'll no longer be the case."

"Huh?"

"Karen wants me to buy her house from her. Maggie and I will have our own place."

"Brooke's going to kill you," Owen said simply.

"So will Maggie. I don't think either of them will speak to me for a while."

"I understand why you're doing it, but you should know that this proposal isn't meant to force you out of here or anything…"

"I know that. I'm doing this for me."

"Turning a page."

"Exactly."

--

_Two Weeks Later_

"Why am I doing this?" Owen asked, as he carefully placed a seal on the next invitation in his pile.

"These invitations needed to be out by yesterday so we're playing catch up."

"No I meant, why am _**I**_ here? Why isn't Peyton doing this?"

"Because I'm still mad at Peyton."

"Brooke…"

"Don't 'Brooke' me, Owen! I have every right to pout about this."

"You have to understand this from her perspective."

"Yeah well it feels like she's taking away my daughter."

"Brooke," Owen said gently, placing his hand on top of hers to stop her from busying herself with calligraphy.

"I know it's silly, but she's a part of me. I watched her come into this world. I was the first to hold her, first to see her smile. Hell, I was her first word!"

"Her first word was shit."

"Yeah but I'm the one who accidentally taught her that."

"Brooke, she's only moving a few blocks. She's literally a five minute drive away. And we'll still be babysitting her every night."

"I know."

"Peyton's not going anywhere, Brooke," Owen whispered, "And neither is Margaret."

"Ugh," Brooke groaned, "I know!"

"So then call her up and get her in here to help you finish."

"Nice try Owen Nichols. We're finishing these together."

"Fine," Owen sighed, giving up and picking up the next invitation, "Who's this one being made out to?"

"Mr. and Mrs. Lucas Scott."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me right," Brooke said as if it was nothing.

"So we're inviting exes? Then I got quite a couple to add to the list."

"Umm, your best man dated me all of senior year, so don't even go there," Brooke said.

"Okay, I'll humor you. Why are we inviting Lucas?"

"Because I want him there."

"No you don't. You hate Lucas."

"I don't hate Lucas. I just dislike him greatly."

"But he's coming to our wedding because…"

"Payback's a bitch. Nothing is more entertaining than watching Broody and P. Sawyer squirm. And plus, I'm doing Peyton a favor. She needs a good lay and if you put her and Lucas in the same room that's guaranteed."

"You know that if you invite Lucas back here he's going to find out about Margaret, and who knows how bad that could be for them. Our wedding could turn into a battle royal."

"Trust me, Owen, no matter what silly things come between them, people who are meant to be always find their way in the end," Brooke said, a smile gracing her face.

--

_You are cordially invited to __celebrate the wedding of_

_Brooke Penelope Davis & Owen Robert Nichols_

_on June 12__th at 12:00 PM__ at St. Peter's Chapel_

_Reception to follow at River Park._

_Black tie only._

Lucas's eyes traced the letters on the invitation. It was from another word, the black and white paper announcing Brooke's wedding shouldn't be perched in his hands. He had long ago assumed that he'd never hear from Brooke Davis again, and along with her, that meant never hearing from Peyton Sawyer.

Brooke was the door that led directly to Peyton. Without Brooke's blessing or encouragement, Peyton and Lucas never seemed to get anywhere. She was their signal fire and guiding light, a guardian angel in their twisted love story. And now seeing this invitation in his hands, Lucas felt as though Brooke was opening a door, letting him back into her life and subsequently Peyton's. He wasn't sure he was ready for that.

"We should go," Lindsey said simply, eyeing the invitation over his shoulder. Lucas turned to look at her, confusion settling on his face for only a moment before it slid right off, masked by indifference.

"We haven't been to Tree Hill in eight years."

"So?"

_It means everything_, Lucas wanted to say, but he didn't, just nodded and smiled, "I guess we could go."

His heart picked up, skipped a beat, and he sat down at the table while Lindsey went back to her work. He could feel the anticipation and fear intertwining and pumping through his system.

This wedding could make or break him, and knowing his history with Peyton, there was no way to predict which way it would go.


	13. Chapter 13: Deja Vu

A/N: First of all, some people asked about why Margaret's last name is Sawyer instead of Mitchell, and that's basically I always saw myself explaining in the next few chapters, but in case I forget, it's something that Drew wanted.

Also, let it be known that all wedding traditions are different. But from my own family traditions, it goes: dinner, toasts, first dance. And that happened to work out perfectly for my fic so I stuck with it.

Now go enjoy this update! It's not beta'ed because my beta is MIA. Next update will be out…soon enough :D Oh and review! Because reviews are made of love, and I always could use some of that lol.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH.

Chapter Thirteen: Déjà vu

There is a common belief that nothing can ever really happen twice. Matter is constantly moving, shifting, dying. Every step you take is another step in a new direction. And while one can try his or her best to repeat past steps, they can never do it.

Sometimes we come close though. Sometimes matter realigns, following the pattern laid out days, weeks or months beforehand, and we have the strongest sense that we've been here and done this before. The French call it paramecia, the experience of feeling sure one has witnessed or experienced a new situation previously.

We call it déjà vu, the French words for "already seen."

--

It was like stepping into a time capsule. That was the first thought that passed through Lucas Scott's head as he and his wife stepped outside the Tree Hill airport for the first time in over seven years. The atmosphere surrounding them felt as though it had been stapled down since they left, compressing the inhabitants into a lair of nothing but blue skies and smiles. He felt his own smile drawn to the surface.

"Come on, Lucas," Lindsey said, tugging his sleeve, "We need to get checked in before the ceremony."

His smile faded slightly at her words. He realized he was just visiting, that this was no longer his home. He watched his wife climb into the driver's seat of their rented car, giving him an expectant look once she was settled in. He took a deep breath.

"Welcome home," he murmured to himself.

--

"This was a mistake!"

"Oh God," Peyton sighed, plopping down on the nearest chair.

"What the hell was I thinking? I'm too young to get married-"

"Brooke, you're twenty-eight. Twelve years older than I was when I got married," Haley said, gently rubbing Brooke's back.

"You don't count. You and Nathan have a freakish marriage," Brooke said as she threw down her veil, the material crinkled from her ringing hands.

"I got married at twenty-three," Peyton charmed in.

"Yeah but you pulled a Cameron and married a dying guy. You cheated."

"Ouch," Peyton said, taking Brooke's veil from the table and straightening it out.

"You know I'm right."

"And you know you're being stupid. Owen loves you. You guys are meant to be together."

"Oh yeah?" Brooke stopped mid pace to face Peyton, "Are you sure about that? Because I don't know. Every time I think I meant to be with a guy it turns out I'm just fooling myself. Lucas. Felix. Chase. All of them!"

"Don't forget Lucas should be on their twice," Haley piped in.

Peyton gaped at Haley. "Dude…"

"Yes!" Brooke answered, "He's on their twice! And it's all your fault, Peyton! If your stupid car had never broken down then you and I would have never met him, and we'd be happy!"

"If by happy you mean, you'd be married to some old rich dude who didn't give two shits about you and I would be married to Nathan, then yeah we'd be having a ball."

"Exactly!"

"I think that's my cue to exit," Haley said as she slowly slipped out of the room, throwing an apologetic glance at Peyton on the way.

"Brooke…" Peyton said, when it was finally just the two of them.

"What?" Brooke snapped.

"Does Owen make you happy?"

"Yes…but that's beside the—"

"Can you imagine yourself spending the rest of your life with anyone else?"

"No," Brooke said softly.

"Then trust in this."

Brooke sighed, collapsing on the chair next to Peyton, her poofy white dress making it appear as though she was surrounding by clouds.

"Everyone I've ever trusted has let me down."

"That's the story of life, kiddo," Peyton said, throwing an arm over Brooke's shoulders, "But you can't let it get to you. People are going to let you down, but it's the Owens of this world who make it worth it."

Brooke laid her head on Peyton's shoulder, just like she had done so many times before and whispered, "I'm scared."

"Everyone's nervous on their wedding day," Peyton chuckled, "Even I was, and I knew this wasn't a lifelong commitment."

"About that…I'm sorry I made fun of your marriage."

"You were only telling the truth."

"Yeah, but I know that marriage meant more to you than I made it seem."

"I loved Drew as much as I possibly could, given the circumstances," Peyton said, "And I think that's what marriage is about, Brooke; committing yourself to someone because they are exactly what you need, and you're willing to be the same for them."

"You're so poetic."

"Is that sarcasm?"

"No," Brooke laughed, taking the veil from Peyton's hands and placing it on her head, "I was being honest. I'm really glad you're giving a speech at the reception. You're very convincing."

"No one needs to be convinced that you and Owen love each other."

"There you go again…"

"Shut up and get your shoes on."

"Yes ma'am."

--

Stepping into St. Peter's Chapel took all the strength Lucas Scott had left in him. This church held so many memories, good and bad. Eight years ago he had stood in this very spot and swore to God and all his friends that he would love honor and cherish Lindsey above all others until the end of time.

Basically, he had lied, and he was so sure that if he stepped back in there, the walls would cave in upon his sinful soul. But the first few shaky steps proved to be a piece of cake compared to the barrage of hugs his mother and Lily forced upon, almost leading to another heart attack. He had missed them so much, and seeing Lily grown and in Tree Hill made his heart ache. He had seen his sister plenty of time since he moved. She had visited him in New York with his mother, and sometimes Lindsey and he had went on the yacht with Andy and them. But this…this was different. This was how it should have been every day. He spared a glance at Lindsey over Lily's shoulder. She was trying her best to make conversation with Karen, but it was stilted, like always.

Lucas knew that a large part of the reason for that was Karen's relationship with Peyton. Before Peyton and Lucas had broken up, Karen and Lily had made quite a few trips out to L.A. to visit her. Lily was only a baby, two years old at the most, but Peyton had bonded with her, and as a result, so to had Karen. When Lucas had moved to New York, Haley had let it mention quite a few times that Karen was still in contact with Peyton. Lucas knew that Karen would never get over the fact that it was Lindsey, not Peyton, who she had to call daughter-in-law.

"Lucas," Karen said, disrupting his trance.

"Yeah?"

Karen opened her mouth to say something, but stopped, pausing as if to mull over her words. She wanted to tell him about Peyton, warn him of the things she kept from him. The things that they had guarded to keep him and Peyton happy. But in her heart, she couldn't do it and so she opted to let him discover it on his own, "You should sit down. The wedding's about to start."

Lucas nodded, taking his place at the end of the aisle. Lily insisted on sitting next to him, and Lindsey obliged with a soft smile, taking her seat next to Karen, separated from her husband.

The violins and pianos cued, and Lucas turned his head to watch the procession, his eyes immediately catching a pair of bright blue ones. A little girl, five years old at the most, pranced down the aisle, her blonde curls tossing from shoulder to shoulder. She tossed the flowers up into the air as high as she could, earning giggles from those around her.

When she reached the front of the church, she had only a handful of petals left, and so with a frown, she decided to change strategies. She handed out petals to each of the people on the ends of the aisle. When she reached Lucas's, she placed the white rose petal in his hand and smiled at him. The smile was so familiar to him, it shook his very core.

_Sam._ His head whispered the name, but his lips didn't dare to move, knowing full and well that this girl was just a mirage. She was probably his niece. Haley and Nathan had a five year old daughter named Natalie who he had yet to really see. His mind was just playing tricks on him. He didn't have long to concentrate on her anyway. Not when he felt the presence of someone else making their way down the aisle. His head turned just as she came to the middle of the aisle, and he saw her.

The world stopped.

Every word that had ever been written about beauty and grace and purity flew out the window at that very moment in which he saw her for the first time in six years. After the moment would pass, he knew that he would try to describe it, in his own mind over and over again and fall short. There was no way to explain it, no words to express it. It was the vision of perfection. She had eyes that sparkled green, lit with passion and dampened by melancholy, but beautiful nonetheless. Her smile still captivated him, still made his breath catch and his heart race dangerously. Her body had filled out over the years, no longer was she as thin as a toothpick, pointy edges and sharp curves. She was fleshed out, making her all the more desirable. The dress she wore clung slightly to her body, leaving room for imagination and yet driving his senses wild.

They wouldn't have been able to pay him to take his eyes off her.

He stared, transfixed, as she passed him, not noticing his presence. The fragrance of her shampoo, still pomegranate, lingered in the air before him. And he watched as she took her spot next to the flower girl, placing a hand on her shoulder and whispering something in her ear.

Lucas's heart broke at that moment, a sense of déjà vu filling his body. He had had this dream before, the one where Peyton whispered to a little girl with curly blonde hair…

_Sam._

Lucas sighed, rubbing his eyes in the hopes that the vision would leave him. But the rest of the ceremony it stayed, clinging to the back of his eyelids every time he tried to blink away from the sight of Peyton and the mystery flower girl. There was no escaping it.

There never was in Tree Hill.

--

Huge white rose centerpieces were the first things he noticed when he crossed the threshold of the reception hall. The centerpieces were at least two and a half feet tall and awkwardly shaped. He wondered briefly why he expected anything different seeing as it was Brooke's wedding.

He spent a whole hour staring at those centerpieces, pretending that he was enjoying his food and that he was not trying to focus on anything other than Peyton Sawyer. Besides, the centerpieces were quite fascinating.

They had been seated at a table with Karen and Lily and some of Owen's family with whom Karen was friendly with. Lindsey was engaged in conversation with Owen's eldest brother, leaving Lucas the freedom to let his mind wander, that was when Lily wasn't poking him in the shin. Despite the nearly twenty year age gap, Lucas and Lily were nothing more than siblings when it boiled down to it.

Once dinner had been devoured, people began to linger away from their tables, just until the toasts would be recited and the first dance begun. Lily slid away from their table to play with her cousins. Lindsey and Karen went to speak with Brooke, congratulate her some more, Lucas guessed. Lucas had the urge to speak with Peyton, but seeing her up at the head table chatting with Chase, Owen's best man, he decided against it. Their time would come.

Instead, he found Nathan and Haley.

"Hey man," Nathan said, a genuine smile finding its way to his face, "I didn't think you'd be here."

"I didn't think so either," Lucas said honestly, "But Brooke invited me so…"

"Have you talked to Peyton?" Haley said quickly, cutting him off. Lucas looked at her oddly. Her composure was not holding up, and Lucas knew right away that there was something she was hiding from him. Haley was never good at keeping secrets when faced with someone in person.

"No. Why?"

"No reason," Nathan said, cutting Haley off before she could say anything, "It's just…a lot's changed since you last saw her."

"Oh really?" Lucas said, slowly taking in the words, "Like?"

Nathan never got a chance to respond. A tiny flash of golden curls came whizzing by Lucas and tugged at Nathan's coat sleeve. It was the flower girl from the ceremony.

"Jamie stole a hunk of frosting off the cake!"

"He did what?" Haley said, her eyes bulging.

"He _**stole**_ a huge chunk of frosting! And it's not fair because mommy said no cake until Auntie Brooke and Uncle Owen cut it."

"You're right," Nathan said crouching down so he was eye level with the girl, "I think I'll have to have a talk with Jamie." He stood up, straightening his tie.

"Give him hell, Uncle Nathan," the little girl said.

"Maggie!"

The voice caught Lucas's attention and he spun around, coming face to face with Peyton Sawyer.

Her eyes caught his, and suddenly her face went from disappointed to shocked in a matter of seconds.

"Oh," she managed to squeak out.

"I think I'm going to go help Nathan scold our son," Haley said, looking back and forth between the two adults, "Come on Maggie."

Margaret nodded, but before she left she turned to Peyton, "Mommy, I'm sorry I said hell."

"It's okay," Peyton said, averting her gaze from Lucas. She gave Margaret the biggest smile she could muster, hoping to convince her daughter that she wasn't shocked because of her actions. Margaret seemed to buy it, and as soon as she and Haley were out of sight, the smile slid from her face. She turned back to Lucas who was looking at her now with a mixture of curiosity and awe.

This was awkward.

"I see you met my daughter," Peyton ventured, biting on her lip. Hell, the cat was already out of the bag. There was no way around it.

"Yeah," Lucas said, the disbelief etched into every bit of his voice.

"I'm…uh…yeah," Peyton looked around for some way out of this conversation, "I thought you knew."

"Excuse me?"

"I thought someone would have passed along the message by now," Peyton said, "I mean Karen, Haley, Nathan, they all knew and I know they all still talk to you so I figured someone would have mentioned it."

"Peyton, it's not a big deal," Lucas said, laughing a little, though it was stilted and see through.

"Don't pretend it's not," Peyton whispered, "You didn't deserve to find out like this, Lucas."

Lucas dropped the façade and nodded gently.

"She's beautiful," he said.

"She's just like I imagined she would be."

"Yeah?"

"Well," Peyton said, biting her lip, "Not exactly. There are a few things I didn't bargain for."

They exchanged a weak smile.

Lucas opened his mouth, intent on asking the question that was burning in his heart, the question Peyton hoped he wouldn't ask. But before he could, the DJ's voice rang over the speaker announcing the toasts.

"That's my cue," Peyton said.

Lucas just nodded as she left, her feet carrying her only a few steps before the words slipped out of his mouth.

"Hey Peyton?"

Peyton turned back to look at him.

"You look nice."

And with a sly grin and not another look, he went back to his seat.

--

"I will kill you," Peyton muttered, as Chase began his speech first.

"Why would you say that?" Brooke whispered, pretending to still be listening to what Chase was saying.

"One word: Lucas."

Brooke looked non-plus, "Two words: Get laid."

"Brooke," Peyton warned.

"Oh fine you need it spelled out some more! Four words: Get laid…by Lucas."

"You did not seriously invite him to your wedding so I would sleep with him, did you?"

"What do you think, P. Sawyer?"

"Oh my God," Peyton sighed, as applause over Chase's speech rang out around them.

"Looks like you're up, P. Sawyer. You'll have to wait to kill me until the honeymoon's over."

"I hate you," Peyton muttered, standing up so she could give her speech.

"I love you too, sweetheart," Brooke smirked as she smacked her in the ass. The audience laughed and Peyton couldn't help but send Brooke a playful glare and play along.

"When Brooke asked me to give this speech, I thought she was joking because in all honesty, there are plenty of more qualified people who could stand up here and tell you about why she and Owen will last. There are people who know love better than I do, who've had it and held on to it for years.

When my husband died, Brooke and Owen were in the middle of one of their bigger fights. Brooke had gone into hyperactive mode, which was her usual setting when she was nervous or upset. None of us could get her to calm down. So I called Owen and as soon as he heard what had happened, it didn't matter how much they were fighting, he was at our house in a matter of minutes. And as soon as she saw him, they melted into each other.

They could see the bigger picture. They could see that the fights and the break ups and the hardships didn't matter because in the end it always came back to them. They just needed one look or one embrace and they were right back on track.

William Shakespeare once wrote, "love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. Oh no, it is an ever fixed mark." I don't like that sonnet one bit because I believe the greatest part of Brooke and Owen's love is that it had moved. It has changed and altered and grown and when problems were thrown at them, they overcame it through adapting. They faced everything together, and when they knew they had to face things alone, it was okay. They trusted each other.

True love is the type that can survive everything, the kind whose embers don't die." Peyton paused, taking in a shaky breath.

"True love is rare, and when you find it, you hate to lose it. I was blessed with plenty of glimpses at true love in my life. Some I could not keep, and some I watched fly away, but I think Brooke and Owen are two people who will never lose that spark."

Peyton turned to face Brooke and Owen, raising her champagne flute. "To Brooke and Owen, may you always carry each other's hearts with dignity and grace."

Applause rang out as Peyton took her seat next to Brooke.

"You went and made me cry," Brooke mumbled, tears falling from her eyes.

"I guess we're even then," Peyton smirked, turning her attention the DJ as he prepared to announce the first dance.

"At this point," the DJ said, "we'd like to have Brooke and Owen join us on the floor as they celebrate their first dance together as Mr. and Mrs. Nichols."

Peyton watched as Brooke and Owen took their place on the dance floor. The music began to play and Peyton immediately recognized the tune, the sound of the voice sending chills down her spine.

_Waves are crashing on the sea_

_Move the mountains majesty_

_In the end, it all comes back to me_

_And only here can I see what you mean to me_

_The water moves a steady pace._

_In its echoes I see your face._

_My love for you began this chase._

_I know it's you I can't erase_

Brooke didn't know that Drew had written this song for her. But Peyton remembered it's words whispered against her temple, the last song he ever recorded. Peyton tried her best not to look frantic as she slipped out of the reception hall, hoping and praying that Drew's words wouldn't follow her.

One man noticed and that same man followed.

--

The pieces connected in Lucas's mind just seconds before he found her. Drew Mitchell, the lead singer of Sober, had been her husband, he would bet his life on that. It made sense then why she had assumed he just might know about her marriage. She knew he kept tabs on the latest music scene and Sober had been pretty damn good in their day…

He found her leaning against the railing which faced the large open window with the view of the ocean. She noticed his approach and gave him a sad smile, as if she figured he would find her first. He stood next to her, overlooking the ocean.

"He was your husband," Lucas said, breaking the silence.

"Yes," Peyton said simply, "And no, I wasn't a groupie," she added hoping to lighten the mood somewhat.

Lucas laughed, "I didn't think you were."

"Eh," Peyton shrugged, trying to hold back her emotions. Lucas saw it, saw the pain she was hiding, the pain she still carried, the type that had only multiplied after he left. He felt his own heart break at her heart ache. He wanted to fix her, any way he could think how.

"Dance with me," Lucas asked, suddenly. Peyton looked up at him, eyes blustering with unshed tears.

"Lucas…"

"No one's here, Peyton," he reassured, extending his hand, "Just you and me."

_And Drew_, Peyton thought. She could still hear the fading echo of his voice.

_And that's what you mean to me._

_Everything and more to me._

She bit her lip. "That's a dangerous thing."

"What?"

"Us. Alone."

Lucas smirked, "You really think I'm going to seduce you with my wife and your daughter less than five feet away and you about to cry over your dead husband."

Peyton let out a short laugh, "Knowing you, yes. And knowing me, I'd let you."

"Pretend I'm a friend for five minutes."

"Fine," Peyton rolled her eyes, but took the two steps to be even with him, placing one hand in his and the other on the top of his shoulder. "But if your hand moves two inches south of my lower back, and I'm kneeing you in the groin."

Lucas chuckled, his arm curling up her back where his hand rested splayed between her shoulder blades. He squeezed the other hand in hers. "Good enough?"

"Yes."

They swayed slowly, the beat from the other room lost through the walls. Still, she felt the tension within her shift and change, but refuse to release. He must have felt it too, because his hand rubbed circles on her back, slowly coaxing her into relaxing.

She could feel his breath against her cheek, as Drew's words faded out for good and she felt something inside of her snap finally. Here, in this hallway, she could finally let go. There was no need to worry about Brooke barging into her room to talk about purse designs or work surprising her with a call about album covers or Maggie waking up in the middle of the night from a bad dream. There was no distraction to keep her going, nothing to keep her from letting it all go.

She hadn't cried since the day Drew was buried. Sure, she had shed a few tears now and then, but nothing that got out of hand, nothing that couldn't be swept under the rug with a few encouraging words from Haley or Karen or Brooke. Every inch of grief she had experienced from that day forward had to be hidden, for Maggie's sake.

But now, all it took was Lucas to change that. He was the only person who saw through her, the only one who could cut through the bullshit and make her feel. He was responsible for her greatest pain and greatest joy. And here in his arms, she felt her greatest sorrow unleashed with the first harsh sob that escaped her lips.

He didn't even flinch when it happened, like he knew it was coming. He braced himself, even, as she began to fall apart, crumble within his arms. He dragged her to the floor; let her curl up in his lap. Her arms locked tightly around his neck, and her face buried in the crook there. He whispered reassurances in her ear, and petted the hair back off her face. He held her as close as he could.

He didn't ask for her to explain, and so she didn't, but in her head she waned to tell him the whole story.

She wanted to tell him about a girl who believed people always left, a girl who had found love again and had it ripped away from her in the most ironic and cruel way possible. She wanted to tell him about the man who had made her happy for some time. The man who sang her to sleep and made her ice cream sundaes at two in the morning. The man who did what Lucas couldn't, the man Lucas should thank for giving her the greatest gift she had ever received.

It wasn't as though those tears were just for Drew though. She wanted to tell him that she cried for the man whose proposal she had turned down. She wanted to tell him about the nights she spent up in her daughter's new bedroom, his old room, remembering the time that this room was her only safe haven. She wanted to tell him of regret for saying no to the one person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

She wanted to explain how sometimes when she looked at Maggie she saw Lucas looking back, and it was then that she had to remember not to whisper the name Sam. She wanted to tell him that he haunted every aspect of her life, that she could go anywhere without thinking of him. Every sight, sound and smell still found a way to bring her mind back to him, even after eight years apart. She wanted to tell him that when it was all said and done, most of the tears she cried would always be for him.

She didn't have to tell him any of it.

He already knew.

He placed her hand over his heart, curling his fingers on top of it to keep it in place.

The gesture spoke louder than words would have.


	14. Chapter 14: Interlude

A/N: Umm sorry this update took so long. It's just I've kind of lost my passion for OTH because Lucas is a tool and Peyton is not much better.

Also, this is important and I've been meaning to address it for awhile but I kept forgetting every update. There's been some plagiarizing going around in this fandom and I've heard that my fics have been one of the sources (seeing as I don't read OTH stuff...I wouldn't know). So here's the deal! If you are the plagiarizer, I will give you one last chance to stop, and if you don't, I will track you down and give you the verbal lashing of your life. It will be so cruel and mean that you will want to cry for years and I will hold no mercy because **plagiarism is evil and I'm not amused. **I have been leinient and I have been nice and I could have reported you the first time you did this or named names so that everyone knew who you were. But I didn't because I believe in second chances. So I'm letting you know in the Author's Note because clearly you read my fics otherwise how would you get your own updates...**This is the last warning.**

Okay enough of me being mean, on to the chapter! This is unbeta'ed because it's nearly midnight and my beta lives in Britain. And I'm impatient. Sooo all mistakes are my own. And the next update will hopefully be out soon. (And for anyone who was a reader of Life Happens...I'm working on an update for that one too...shocking! I know.)

Disclaimer: I don't own One Tree Hill.

Chapter Fourteen: Interlude

For years, people have been spinning metaphors to describe exactly what life really is. But as it goes, life is too complex to be summed up in one entity, to be defined as anything other than life.

However, the most intriguing one to be stumbled across is the idea that life is a burned CD. It's filled with all different genres of music, funky dance mixes for all tomorrow's parties, ballads for those pivotal moments where lovers' eyes meet and break up songs for the heartache that's destined to come along. A gigantic mix of highest highs and lowest lows.

Most importantly, there's the segments set aside for the times when life runs in neutral, where nothing good and nothing bad happens.

Those are the interludes.

--

One of Peyton's clearest memories of her mother is her standing at the kitchen counter, hands on her hips and a bright pink apron tied around her waist. Her blonde hair was braided, though the humidity made it difficult to tell as the braid was swallowed whole by frizz.

Peyton remembered the funniest look on her mother's face. It was as if she was trying not to laugh but couldn't help it. And then she spoke, and the words stuck with Peyton all through her life.

"Peyton, when you cry, you tune out the world, don't you?"

To this day, Peyton couldn't tell you what she had been crying about then.

Now though, she understood exactly what her mother meant because somewhere between the time she collapsed in Lucas's arms and now, she had found her way to Chase's truck, and was now curled in a ball against the passenger side window.

The realization that she had no idea where she or more importantly, her daughter, was hit her just as Chase opened the driver's side door.

"Where's Maggie?" she asked immediately.

"Good to see you're no longer comatose," Chase smirked, "Maggie's with Haley and Nathan. They figured you didn't want her seeing you like this."

"What about Brooke?"

"She didn't see you like this either if that's what you're asking."

"No! I mean...her wedding. It's her wedding and I have to get back inside." She briefly wondered how much time could have possibly passed crying in Lucas's arms and if maybe she had already missed the whole thing.

"Brooke's been told you came down with an extreme case of the stomach flu, and I'm taking you home."

"You don't have to do that, Chase. It's only a short walk. I'll be fine."

"I'm more worried about anyone who might see you. You look like the living dead Peyton. Mascara smudged all over your face, eyes swollen like a puffer fish, cheeks glossy with tears and lipstick residue."

"Oh God..." Peyton moaned.

"You should see what you did to Lucas," Chase murmured, "It looked like he had been attacked by a hose and a horny secretary all at once."

"Oh God!" Peyton gasped, covering her mouth. "I have to go back inside. I need to apologize to Lucas and explain to Lindsey-"

"Leave that to Lucas, Peyton. It's not your job to meddle-"

"But I-"

"He's the one that let you. He could've come and gotten one of us after you broke down, but he chose to spend an hour soothing you-"

"An hour?"

"It might have been less," Chase assuaged.

Peyton let out a groan. "I feel like shit, and I'm going to hell."

Chase let out a snort of disbelief, "Yeah you're totally right. I remember hearing that hell was for single mothers who break down once every ten years."

"Shut up, Chase."

"That's more like it. Less pity party, more bitchiness. Make Brooke proud."

Peyton just grumbled and curled up in her seat. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, but most of all she was disappointed. The first time she had seen Lucas in seven years and she couldn't even remember how it ended.

How appropriate for them.

--

For a writer, he wasn't very good with words.

Maybe that was why he had given up writing.

All he knew for sure was that one look at his appearance in the bathroom mirror and he knew there was no way he would be able to explain this to Lindsey. The only option he had was to go to back to the hotel. Nathan offered to give him a ride and he had accepted. Haley, in the meantime, was creating alibis for both him and Peyton. He wondered if anyone actually believed them.

He wondered why he didn't care either way.

He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the passenger's side window. Across the parking lot, he could see Chase lowering Peyton into his SUV. She was still crying and every inch of his body begged for him to get out of the car and pull her back into his arms.

But this wasn't high school and it most definitely wasn't a fairy tale. There was such a thing as consequences, and he felt the presence of the gold band around his finger more so than ever in that moment. There was a thin line that he and Peyton were towing and he couldn't cross it. For her sake. For Lindsey's sake.

Most of all, for Peyton's daughter's sake.

"Don't even think about it," Nathan warned.

"I'm not," Lucas sighed.

"Sure you're not."

"I know the rules, Nathan," Lucas whispered, turning his head away from the window.

"It's not about rules, Lucas. It's about true love and marriage and how you can't have one without the other. And I just find it really fascinating how you manage to have both but with two different women."

"Nathan, I-"

"Don't," Nathan said cutting Lucas off, "I just don't want to hear it, Luke. You can't talk you're way out of this one. I saw you tonight. And you're actions have always spoken twenty times louder than your words. The way you acted in there, there's not a doubt in my mind that you're not over her, and you never will be."

"I'm a married man."

Nathan let out a mirthless laugh. "You were always good at avoiding the question. 'I'm with Brooke now.' 'Lindsey's my wife.' 'Peyton and I are just friends.' None of those are reasons for why you sure as hell act like you're in love with Peyton Sawyer."

It was at that moment they pulled up in front of the hotel.

Nathan sighed, "Listen, Luke, I know-"

"I'm in love with Peyton Sawyer," Lucas said, "I'm in love with her as much as I was the day she turned down my proposal, as much as I was when I proposed to Lindsey and when I said I do to her. As much as the day I woke up in that hospital and saw her face staring back at me. My love for Peyton is something I've never doubted or wavered on even when her love for me has been questionable. "

"You don't get it one bit, and I can't expect you to. You always knew Haley loved you. When she went on tour she didn't even last five months without you, and when she came home she worked her ass off to make sure that you knew how much she loved you."

"With Peyton and me, it's never been like that. When we hurt each other, we hurt each other hard and we get scarred and we run away. It's what we do best. And right now, we're running. It's been almost a decade of running."

"So I won't pretend for one second that I don't try my hardest to bury my love for her sometimes. Yes, Nathan, I do avoid the question because it just makes life easier."

"Because the truth is I'm not happy, but I do not need everyone and their brother telling me about how I'll never be happy until I just let Peyton back in. It's something I'm well aware of. I said I do. I let her go and I let her marry someone else and have their child. And right now there are too many obstacles to overcome and too much damage to undo. It's not feasible."

Lucas stopped and rubbed his eyes again. He felt a major headache coming on.

"It's sad to hear that Luke," Nathan said quietly, "Because I know who you are Lucas, and if anything you are a born fighter. I've seen you fight stupid battles where your heart truly wasn't in it, and I've seen you fight for things that you know you wouldn't be able to win but that you fought anyways because it was the right thing to do. You don't back down and you don't lose hope that's why I find it so difficult to understand why when you come face to face with Peyton, suddenly you can't step up to the challenge. It's almost as if you're trying to be something you're not."

"Yeah? What's that?" Lucas muttered.

"A scientist," Nathan said, and seeing Lucas's incredulous look, he continued, "All logic and probability and no heart whatsoever."

"There's nothing wrong with weighing the facts when making decisions, you know. It's the smart thing to do."

"It's playing safe. It's cold and calculated."

"Scientists have heart," Lucas argued.

"Prove it, Lucas. Reconcile the two."

Lucas just stared at his younger brother. He was the epitome of a happy man; loving wife and a handful of beautiful children. He had a good heart and he was way too wise for his own good. Lucas couldn't help but grin.

"I'll keep it in mind, Nathan," he said getting out of the car. He bent down so that he could speak through the open window. "Hey Nate."

"Yeah?"

"Did she love him?"

"Did who love who?"

"Did Peyton love her husband?"

"It didn't hold a candle for how she felt about you."

"Now who's avoiding the question?"

Nathan sighed, "Yeah, she loved him."

"Was he good to her?"

"That's something you got to ask her, but I never saw him be anything but loving to her."

"Huh."

"Don't go getting a complex," Nathan muttered, "She still loved you more."

"Yeah," Lucas shrugged, "I'll see you later."

"Hopefully," Nathan mumbled under his breath as he watched Lucas enter the hotel room.

--

Peyton felt as though the walls were closing in on her. She stared at the ceiling, willing herself as much as possible to get some sleep, but to no avail. She kept thinking of all the terrible things that had happened to her in the past. The bad memories played on repeat like a slideshow gone wrong. The only way to make them stop was to think of what Lucas had said, or maybe how he had said it. The smooth and sweet cadence of his voice in her ear.

But then not long after she focused on that, she realized how terrible it was to be finding comfort in a married man's voice and she had to shake her thoughts, and she was back at the start thinking of how miserable and messed up her life was.

"Mommy!"

Peyton sat up as quickly as possible, knocking the covers off her body, happy as ever to hear her daughter's voice.

"Hey baby!" Peyton said, hiding the shakiness in her voice well, "How was the rest of the wedding?"

"It was fine. Auntie Haley wanted to know if you wanted her to come in and make us tea."

"No, I'm fine."

"I'll go tell her and then I'll come back and tell you all about the wedding!" Maggie darted off and before it seemed Peyton had any time to catch her breath, Maggie was back.

"That was fast," Peyton chuckled.

"I have so much to tell you," Maggie said climbing up onto the bed, "Guess who caught the bouquet?"

"Who?"

"Jenny"

"Whoa! Seriously? As in Jenny Jagielski?"

"Yes! And then guess who caught the gardener?"

"Heh. You mean garter?"

"That's what I said," Maggie said, putting her hands on her hips, "Now do you want to know?"

"Yes."

"Jamie."

"Jamie caught the garter?"

"Yes and he had to dance with Jenny and it looked really, really funny," Maggie giggled.

"I'm sure it did."

"Mommy, who was that man with you in the hallway?"

"What?" Peyton said, taken off guard. She pulled herself up a little so she could look her daughter in the eye.

"The man who was standing with you out in the hallway. I didn't see much besides the back of his head before Natalie chased me back inside to play tag, and then I didn't see him at all after that."

"You mean Lucas?"

Maggie shrugged. "Auntie Brooke kept pointing at him during the first dance and calling him bad names."

"Well then it was probably Lucas."

"Do you like him?"

"He's a good man," Peyton nodded, "Why do you ask?"

"Usually you and Auntie Brooke hate the same people."

"Luke's different."

Maggie seemed to debate this in her head. "I like him."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Because you like him," Maggie said, but before Peyton could respond she changed the subject, "Hey mommy, are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling fine."

"Then can we watch The Little Mermaid."

"It's way past your bedtime, missy."

"Plllllease," Maggie begged.

"Fine," Peyton sighed, "Go get it."

"Yay!"

Peyton watched her daughter go and smiled. Margaret Drew Sawyer would always be the reason she kept on smiling even when there was nothing to smile about.

--

She didn't know what to expect when she got back to the hotel room. She wasn't born yesterday, and so when she noticed that both Peyton and Lucas had left the wedding reception with questionable alibis both given by Haley, Lindsey assumed the worst, especially when she watched Brooke smirking up a storm when Haley gave her the news personally as though this was part of some master plan she had devised. As soon as she thought of what plan Brooke could have thought of, her mind immediately lingered toward sex. Sex in her hotel room. Between her husband (because as much as they had drifted apart he was still hers) and Peyton Sawyer, the love of his life.

So when she found him typing away at his computer, eyes locked on the screen and headphones pumping in what must have been classic Dashboard Confessional, she didn't know whether she should be slightly relieved or just plain puzzled. Instead she felt hurt, because the sight in front of her was more painful than she could have imagined.

She almost wished she would have caught him and Peyton in bed together. Physical desire and passion hurt, but it was definitive. A sign of the bond Lucas held with Peyton. These cryptic clues that Lucas left instead made her feel as though she was going insane.

He only wrote when he was in close proximity to Peyton. She was his muse, and unending source of inspiration. She knew it in her heart but whenever she opened her mouth to say it, the word 'coincidence' sprung to her head. She knew Lucas well. She knew he would insist that's all it was. Because he played the game all too well.

Frustration boiled over in her, and through the haze of hurt and anger, she had what some might almost call a moment of clarity. She remembered the passage in Luke's first book, the one about how he and Peyton had found their way back to each other. She remembered Lucas's own moment of clarity.

She remembered the painful few chapters before it about Lucas pining for Brooke about how Peyton stood patiently on the sidelines. She remembered how much it frustrated her that those two couldn't see that they were meant to be.

And then she remembered how it was Brooke who finally convinced Lucas that it was okay to go after Peyton. She had reminded him that when all his dreams came true, Peyton was the one he wanted next to him. She remembered rationalizing it in her head. It had taken Lucas and Peyton far too long to see it, but Brooke, Brooke saw it first. Brooke was the one who had questioned everything Lucas said or did. She had been weary of Lucas and Peyton's friendship from the very start of her own relationship. It wasn't insecurity, but truth, bitter truth.

And history had repeated itself with her.

She felt like Brooke because she was Brooke. She was not a roadblock or an obstacle but a northern star. It was her job to finish this chapter of the story. She had to guide Lucas home because he was too stubborn and too proud to do it himself. Just like Peyton was too caring and too moral to hurt someone else with her love.

Brooke hated Lucas to this day because he still couldn't see it. And Lindsey understood that it had to be her job to make sure he finally did.

"Do we even need to talk?" Lindsey sighed.

Lucas finally noticed her presence and pulled the ear buds from his ears. He took in her angry stance and let out a sigh of his own, "Probably."

"I'm not stupid," Lindsay said, "I know you're still in love with her. I know that the reason you left the wedding tonight somehow has to do with her and even if it wasn't anything that oversteps the lines of adultery. It matters all the same."

"Lindsey-"

"We've been over for awhile, Lucas. And I'd like to keep what little dignity I have left by being the one to end this marriage. So I'm going to drive to the airport, fly back to New York and I will mail you the divorce papers along with your belongings. And in a couple months, you can send me that book of yours."

Lucas gaped at her, the words she spoke, seemingly light years away from what he expected. "You want to end a seven year marriage just like that?"

"Are you seriously going to fight me on this? Are you going to lie to my face and pretend that you are happy? Well it doesn't matter, because I'm not! I'm not happy Lucas! Because as much as I love you, I know that I'm not enough. I was a fool to think differently. I read the book Lucas. I know the story by heart. It's still the same question after all these years, Luke. When you're dreams come true, who do you want standing next to you? I can bet you a million dollars it's not me."

"I don't know what to say," Lucas said honestly.

"For a writer, you always did suck with words," Lindsey said.

"Lindsey, I...I never meant to hurt you, and I truly did believe that we could be happy."

"But we're not," Lindsey said softly, "We haven't been for awhile. To make me happy, you had to change who you were just so you could live with yourself. You gave up writing and I watched you die a little inside each day you lived without it. I walked into this hotel room tonight expecting to see you happy, and I was right...even if I did get the details wrong."

"I know it's no consolation, but I wouldn't do that to you. Peyton wouldn't either."

"I know," Lindsey nodded, "And it kills you to have to deny yourself it. It shouldn't be that hard."

"So it's really over?"

"Yeah, it is," Lindsey said. She went to her armoire and grabbed her bags out, still packed. She had hoped for a quick retreat from Tree Hill, just not this quick.

"Are you sure you don't want to wait until the morning before you go?"

Lindsey just shook her head, gathering the few things she had left around the room.

"Can I at least drive you to the airport?"

"I'll grab a cab. You get back to writing."

"You sure?"

"Yes. I wasn't kidding about wanting that book in a couple of months."

Lucas smiled. "Okay, then. I just hate watching you go like this."

"It's better than me kicking and screaming," Lindsey said. She opened her arms and Lucas stepped forward, embracing her for the last time, taking in every bit of her and realizing that she had given him an out.

Another chapter of his life closed.

He sighed and glanced out the window of his hotel room. He could see the lights at Rivercourt flicker and his mind immediately shifted to Peyton.

A new chapter was beginning too.

He hated thinking that with his soon to be ex wife not more than inches away but then, it was that kind of thinking that was what made her his ex wife.

"Out of curiosity," Lindsey said shaking him from his thoughts, "What's this next book going to be about?"

Lucas smiled, recalling the conversation he had earlier.

"It's about a scientist and a comet."


	15. Chapter 15: Grief

A/N: The OTH muse has deserted me. Blame Mark Schwann and his ridiculous cliffhanger (dude they showed it in the damn preview!! How in the hell can they then in turn make it a cliffhanger?!). Honestly, I've really just suffered enough from this show. But! Alas...I came through in the end. I don't know how I feel about this chapter. I really don't like the beginning, but I love the end so I say it balances itself out. Go enjoy! And review. Because I cling to them as a reason to keep writing.

Also, this wasn't beta'ed. So all mistakes shall be blamed on me.

Disclaimer: I don't own OTH. If I did, it would rock hardcore and it really REALLY doesn't rock hardcore right now, does it?

Chapter Fifteen: Grief

In life, the hardest thing one has to face is loss. The lives we live are fleeting, just brief moments in time. Even with its shortness though, life leads us down paths that interconnect and cross with others. We touch each other's lives. We leave our marks, and therefore, when we leave this world, we leave someone crying in the shadows.

As a result, grieving is a natural process, something everyone will encounter at one point in time. And when grief hits, we will need that shoulder to cry on, that person to let us know it will be okay, even if they don't know if its fact or fiction.

Some say death is the one common experience, but really, that's not the truth.

Grief is the one thing that connects us all.

--

He didn't remember sunlight being this bright. Lucas rubbed at his eyes. This was the first time he'd been outside in a week. He had spent the past week holed up in his hotel room writing nonstop, only taking breaks for food and sleep. His fingers ached from the speed at which his muse was forcing his hands to type. His head hurt from thinking through plot holes, side arcs and character flaws. His eyes were blurry from staring at a computer screen day in and out for seven days.

Still, he hadn't felt this alive in a long time. This was what he was born to do, and the smile had yet to disappear from his face. How many twenty-eight year old, soon to be divorcees would say that, especially if said divorcee was also without a home and without a real job.

The money from his second book had more than sustained him these past six years. Lindsey had made it clear in her last email that she would not be seeking any alimony, meaning that money was still all his. The amount would cover rent for a year someplace.

He had been hoping that he would have his mother's house back, but apparently she had sold it. She mentioned it in passing during their last conversation before the wedding. At the time, he hadn't thought twice about it, but now, he realized how sad it made him.

That home was such a huge part of him, and he wished he could see it one more time, just to give himself peace on the matter.

That's why he was standing outside of it, with his fingers lingering at the doorbell.

He remembered once before his wedding Haley talked about Peyton visiting her old house, and how it helped her move on. He realized that was probably bullshit from Peyton, but it still made him want to give it a shot. He just hoped that whoever was behind the door didn't think he was crazy. But that was the chance he'd have to take.

Lucas rang the doorbell, and took a deep breath.

--

It felt weird. That was the first thought that passed through Peyton's head as she cooked breakfast. She looked around the kitchen and tried to pinpoint what it exactly was that was throwing her off today.

It had been a week since the wedding. Most of it, she had spent in isolation, unintentional isolation that is. She and Maggie had been busy. They were making their new house, a home. When they had first moved in, she had been preoccupied with helping Brooke plan the wedding of the century. With that gone, Peyton had no excuse for the boxes strung all over the floor and the waiting paint cans in the corner.

They had spent the past week picking out furniture and painting rooms throughout the house. As a result, most phone calls went straight to the machine, even Haley's frantic rants. Peyton figured if anyone needed to talk to her, she was five feet down the road. They made cars for a reason.

She knew that this was just a way of avoidance. She didn't want to confront what had happened at the wedding. She didn't want a lecture from Haley or Nathan or Chase or anyone else that they could throw at her. Lucas was probably back in New York with his wife, and there was no need to dwell on him. It would just make everything worse.

Luckily for her, Maggie was more than happy to play along. She had been bugging Peyton to finish unpacking for weeks. After the initial unhappiness with moving, Maggie had adjusted wonderfully to living in Aunt Karen's old house.

"Something's wrong with the kitchen."

Peyton turned around to find her daughter at the corner of the room, peering up at the wallpaper with a scrunched nose. "I think so too."

"It doesn't look right with the living room."

Peyton glanced towards the living room and spotted the problem right away. The olive colored walls in the living room were clashing terribly with the pale yellow paisley print in the kitchen.

"What color should this room be then?"

"Blue!"

"That's your answer for every room," Peyton chuckled.

"Pink?"

"Even worse," Peyton mulled as she slid the omelet she had been cooking onto Maggie's plate.

"I'm out of ideas then," Maggie shrugged.

"How about green?"

"The whole house will be green then," Maggie whined.

"What's wrong with green? It's your favorite color."

"Nuh-uh. My favorite color is blue."

"Oh right," Peyton nodded, "and if it was up to you, the whole house would be blue."

Maggie nodded enthusiastically.

"Well green's my favorite color, and since it's up to me, we're going to paint the kitchen green."

"Why's it up to you? I live here too!"

"Yeah," Peyton conceded, "But I'm the one who pays for the paint."

"Not fair," Maggie pouted.

"Life is not fair, kiddo."

Just as Maggie opened her mouth to respond, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" Maggie said as she ran to the door, without warning.

She opened the door, and came face to face with Lucas. Her eyes widened as she remembered who the face in front of her was.

"You're Lucas Scott."

Lucas just peered down at the little girl with one eyebrow raised. "Yes I am. And you're Maggie."

"Margaret Drew Sawyer," Maggie corrected, "Are you here to see my mommy?"

"Uh-"

"Maggie! Who is it?" Peyton said as she approached the door. Her eyes froze as she saw who was standing there. "Lucas?"

"Hey Peyton," Lucas said softly. His hands slipped into his pocket, a nervous gesture he still had.

Peyton smiled at him, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to see the old house."

"Oh," Peyton said. She was suddenly aware of the fact that she was standing in her foyer (his old foyer) in tattered pajamas which revealed most of her long legs.

"We live here now," Maggie supplied.

"I gathered as much," Lucas said, smiling down at her.

"I'll show you around." Maggie grabbed his hand and led him inside, past the still shell shocked Peyton.

"Umm, is that okay with you, Peyton?" Lucas asked, though Maggie was already pulling him into the living room.

"Huh?" Peyton said shutting the door. The sound of it clicking shut woke her up. She shook her head, "Sorry. Yeah, go ahead."

"Okay," Lucas nodded, letting Maggie show him around.

Peyton plopped down on the couch, and buried her head in her hands. There were a thousand questions suddenly swirling through her head, along with the always present voice of Brooke Davis whispering, 'karma's a bitch.'

--

"The house looks great."

Peyton peeked out through her hands and saw Lucas smile at her knowingly. Maggie had spent the past ten minutes giving Lucas a world class tour, unaware to the awkwardness that was present between her mother and this man now in front of her.

"Thank you," Peyton said. She noticed that Maggie was no longer beside him, "Where'd your tour guide go?"

"She said she needed to get dressed, but that you would be more than happy to show me the new whitewash on the wraparound porch."

"Oh," Peyton said, standing up, "Do you want to-"

"No, it's fine," Lucas laughed.

"I didn't think you were still in town."

"Yeah well," Lucas said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm kind of moving back."

"Oh."

"You keep saying that."

"Sorry," Peyton said, a slight blush rising to her cheeks, "This is just all very…"

"Weird."

"Yeah."

"I know. I mean, you're living in my house. Well, not my house…my old house…and you think someone would have let me know before I showed up."

"Because they you could have called me before you came, and I could have changed out of my old pajamas."

"No," Lucas said simply, "I like you in the old pajamas. It's about the only thing in this house that reflects what it used to be like."

"Uh huh," Peyton nodded, a wry grin on her face, "Where's your wife, Lucas?"

She expected the comment to be like a bucket of cold water to him, but instead he just matched her grin.

"I don't have a wife," he shrugged, "I have an ex wife, but she's back in New York, finalizing our divorce and shipping my stuff back here."

"Lucas," Peyton said softly, her hand reaching out to touch his elbow, "I'm sorry."

"Peyton," Lucas said, the grin softening on his face into something warmer and more honest, "It's okay. It was a long time coming."

"Still you were married for seven years. It has to hurt a little, losing someone who has been such a staple of your life for so long," Peyton frowned. Lucas placed his hand over hers. Peyton's eyes snapped to his.

"It hurt everyday," Lucas whispered, and Peyton just squeezed his elbow before letting her hand slip away.

"Luke, I-"

Peyton never got to finish that thought. Instead, her daughter came bursting into the room with all the energy that a normal five year old carried.

"Mommy, I was thinking…"

"Well that's never good," Peyton muttered, but Maggie just continued on.

"Lucas was talking about how he was going to visit his uncle today and I was wondering if we could visit daddy before we do the painting? I want to tell him about my new room and about Auntie Brooke's wedding."

"Of course," Peyton nodded, "We haven't been to the cemetery in awhile."

"Carpool?" Lucas offered, and Peyton bit her lip contemplating the idea. Lucas rolled his eyes at the gesture. "Peyt, it's just a ride. Think of it as a way to save gas."

"How do you even have a car? You just moved back."

"Nathan owns Dan's old dealership, but really you're just avoiding the question."

This was all happening too fast, and Peyton knew it. If she didn't take a second just to breathe and reexamine things, soon she would be depending on him all over again, and it would be an even harder fall than last time, something she couldn't imagine.

"Okay," Peyton nodded, "Just this once."

"If you insist," Lucas grinned.

Peyton swore she was starting to hate that damn grin.

--

Lucas had many regrets about not coming back to visit Tree Hill. He maintained that it was for the best. A clean break with his home town would save all parties involved from rehashing the could have's and the should have's. Still there were the little things he missed, the type of things that nagged at the back of his mind, like the smell of the first spring coating River Court or the sound of the chime over Karen's Café—now Brooke's Boutique.

And there were the big things. Like visiting Keith's grave.

He remembered when the wounds were still fresh from Keith's death and he spent almost every other weekend treading the ground before him. He remembered the nights following Dan's arrest and the arraignment and sentencing where he sat here and rambled on about how unfair life was, how Dan would serve ten years, how he would get away with murder and Keith would be dead. He would talk about how nice guys always finished last.

He was never alone on those nights, he thought. He glanced over at Peyton who was placing a bouquet of daisies on the top of her husband's headstone. She was always there with him, listening to him. She let him vent, kept her lips sealed through most of his rants, and when he was done, he'd see that look in her eyes, the one that just spilled compassion and tenderness and he'd know she understood.

He should have known then that it wasn't just high school puppy love. It was true love, utterly cliché as it sounded.

"You like her?" a small voice said from behind him. He jumped at its presence, forgetting he was still not alone in this cemetery.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Do you like my mommy? Cause you sure stare at her a lot."

"Of course, I like her," Lucas said.

Maggie paused, biting her lip. "I think she likes you too."

Lucas's eyebrows rose at that, "I'm not so sure, Maggie."

"Well I like you," Maggie said, "So I'll tell her she should like you too."

Lucas stared down at his five year old wingman…or well wing woman, and smiled.

--

"Hey baby," Peyton whispered as she set the flowers on top of his grave, "I brought you daisies. I figured roses were way too cliché. That's one thing we promised ourselves we'd never be."

"Truth is…I've been thinking about you a lot. I don't know why but it seems like every day Maggie grows older I see more of you in here. She's got your smile and your eyes. And she's got that bluntness to her already. I know her mouth's gonna get her in trouble."

Peyton sighed, "I've kind of been thinking about all the opportunities we missed out on, and I keep wondering if we would have lasted, especially now.." Peyton trailed off.

She glanced over to check on Maggie, but instead she caught a glimpse of Lucas at Keith's grave. She smiled despite herself.

"That's Lucas," Peyton said, "True Love Always Lucas, not Lucas in Account Management which makes a huge difference. I imagine right now you'd be sizing him up or making some snide remark about his hair, but yeah…that's him. He's back…apparently for good, and I…don't know what to do. I don't know what it even means."

"I'm gonna take the advice you once gave me and just live. I'm not going to over think any of this because that's what got me in trouble last time," Peyton sighed.

"Oh God, I'm being incredibly rude. Here I am rambling to my dead husband about my love life," she paused contemplating how to word what she wanted to say next, "Drew…you know that no matter what happens you'll always have a good chunk of my soul, right? I mean…that boy over there might have stolen my heart a long time ago, but my soul…well that'll always be for you and Maggie to share."

Peyton looked up just in time to see Lucas approaching. "Oh crap, here he comes," Peyton sighed, "We'll continue this conversation later, baby. Wish me luck…or don't; whatever's cool with you."

Peyton closed her eyes and exhaled. A strong wind blew threw the oak tree above Drew's grave, shifting the branches and allowing the bright sun to beat down upon her. It was almost as if she could feel Drew's presence in that very moment. And then, the wind died suddenly, and it was gone. Her eyes snapped open and she was aware of her sudden proximity to Lucas. She gasped and stepped back.

"Sorry," Lucas whispered.

"It's okay," Peyton smiled.

"Maggie asked me to let you know that she was going to visit Chester's grave over by the hill."

"Oh. Chester, the rabbit?"

"I guess," Lucas shrugged, "She was waving that bag of carrots she brought."

"My daughter has way too much fun with these visits," Peyton laughed. Lucas chuckled along with her.

"She's just very well adjusted. Always a good sign."

"Or she's yet to grasp the concept of death, and it's going to hit her like a ton of bricks."

"Because she brought carrots for Chester?"

"No, she just…" Peyton sighed, "Well she talks to the headstones like they're the actual people."

"And you and I don't?" Lucas said, raising an eyebrow, "I thought you and I agreed that there are souls out there listening to us."

"Well yes, I would hope I didn't just waste five minutes talking to a chunk of marble. Speaking of which," Peyton turned back to the headstone, "Drew, Lucas. Lucas, Drew."

"Introducing me to your dead husband? Now that's a new one."

"I introduced you to my dead mom before. I'm just keeping you in my dead family's loop."

"Well thank you for that," Lucas nodded. He turned his gaze toward the headstone, studying it carefully. "Dying is easy. It's living that's the real challenge."

"It was his favorite saying," Peyton said softly, a small smile coming to her face remembering the first time she heard him say the words, "At first, he said he loved it because it was a justification for why he did the heroin. I used to tell him he should be worried about dying young, and he'd shoot that back at me as if it explained everything. But then, he started telling me I was wasting away here because I thought my life was over. He said that girls like me think that they've accomplished everything they ever thought of getting their hands on. Fame, money, success, friendship, true love," she spared Lucas a glance at that one, "And he said that it would be easy for me to just lie down and be content with what I had experienced."

"He said living was the challenge because you should always have to find something new to live for," Peyton paused to smile, "I remember we were standing around my kitchen when he said that. Afterwards he just gave me this look…this 'I-know-you-can-do-it' look he always gave me…and I remember thinking at that very moment I had found something new to live for."

Lucas watched her speak, listened to her words and felt nothing but heartache for her. He knew at that very moment how deep their love was; how it reached past jealousy and pettiness. It didn't matter to him at that very moment that she had fallen in love again or that someone else had been privy to a part of her that he had always held. All that mattered was that she was hurting. Her pain would always be his pain, and at that moment, he felt as though he would give anything for her to have her husband back, as long as it made that hurt go away.

"I'm so sorry you lost him, Peyton," Lucas whispered. Their eyes met, and Peyton saw the sincerity, felt it etch its way into her very core and stay there.

"It's okay," Peyton said, wiping the few tears that had sprung to her eyes away, "Like he said, the challenge is to find something new to live for, right?"

"Yeah."

"And he gave me that. The odd little girl talking to Jamie's dead rabbit right now."

Lucas and Peyton both couldn't control the laughter that burst forth at that truth. The image of that curious little girl was enough to brighten anyone's day.

"Hey Luke," Peyton managed to whisper after the laughter had subsided.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for listening."

"Any time," Lucas nodded.

--

The ride back from the cemetery was quite pleasant. Peyton spent most of it with her head pressed against the passenger side window, while Maggie and Lucas chattered back and forth. Maggie kept pestering their chauffer with questions, all of which Lucas was more than happy to answer. He had a way with children, Peyton noted. It was such a shame he didn't have any of his own.

_He could be Maggie's, _Drew's voice whispered in her head. Peyton felt her eyebrows furrow at the thought. The sudden impulses from her brain often came out voiced as Drew, seeing as he was always the id to her superego, but hearing his voice suggest something like that made her uncomfortable.

She loved Lucas. This would always be true, but Maggie was not his. It was the part of her life she had created without his help or gentle prodding and she felt some sort of duty to herself to keep it that way. Besides, she doubted that either of them even wanted to go down that road again. It was always a bumpy one, filled with roadblocks, delays and detours. They had the type of relationship that was not suitable for a woman with heavy baggage. Still…would it ever be possible for them to be friends? Would she have to just let him go all together and would she be capable of doing that knowing he was just a few blocks down the road? And hell, Maggie was already becoming attached to him…this was not a good start.

Lucas tapped her on the shoulder. She was so wrapped up in her internal rant over Lucas's place in her life that she didn't notice they had already arrived home.

"You okay there, Peyton?"

"Yeah, sorry," Peyton sighed, shaking her head, "I was just thinking about some things."

"Yeah?" Lucas said as he opened his door. He let Maggie out on his side and then proceeded around the car to open Peyton's door. She beat him to the punch, which almost resulted in him receiving a face full of car door.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You really are out of it," Lucas joked. He walked behind her cautiously, and Peyton raised an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

"Walking you to your door."

"Why?"

"I'm a gentlemen."

"Pfft," Peyton said, "Sure."

"I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh," Peyton said. Her mind immediately thought of all the terrible possibilities where this could be heading. Flashes from the wedding flew through her mind, accompanied by the time her proposed and all the other stupid mistakes they had made when opening their mouth.

"Maggie mentioned that you're looking for a babysitter."

Wow. She had been way off.

Peyton breathed an unconscious sigh of relief, which may or may not have gone unnoticed by Lucas, she wasn't sure. "Yeah, well, I want to give Brooke and Owen some more alone time when they get back from their honeymoon. It'd probably only be for a couple months. Why? Do you have someone in mind?"

"Well…I could do it."

Peyton stared at him blankly. "You?"

"Well, yeah. I'm gonna be watching Jamie and Natalie. What's one more kid?" Lucas shrugged.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Given our history…"

"I'll be honest with you, Peyton. I came back for you."

"Oh God," Peyton said timidly, her knees shaking at where this was heading.

"It's not like that, okay?" Lucas sighed, "I'm not here to make your life complicated. I'm here to square my karma, like you used to say. I want to make things right between us. That means that whatever you need me to be, I'll be. If that just means you need a babysitter, then I'm here."

Peyton bit her lip, but didn't respond. There was something off about his words, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Let's face it, Peyton, I'm not going anywhere. You might as well make use of me."

That part hit her hard. He was full of words. Peyton knew this well. After thirteen years of sweet words followed by elongated absences, Peyton had learned that she couldn't trust anything that came out of his mouth. This time around she had to keep her distance. She had a daughter to think of, a daughter who didn't deserve to be picking up the pieces of a mother's inevitable heartbreak when, not if, Lucas left her again.

"People always leave, Lucas. Even you," Peyton whispered, "But if you want to watch Maggie for me during the week, I'd very much appreciate it."

"Peyton," Lucas said before she could shut the door. Peyton mustered all the strength she could to look him in the eye without tearing up. He held her gaze, his eyes filled with determination and conviction.

"Sometimes they come back."

With the proof standing right in front of her, all Peyton could do was nod.


End file.
